Revelations
by Zivacentric
Summary: Story details how Ziva & Gibbs came to be together, everyone's reaction when their relationship is revealed, and, finally, their wedding. Chs. 11 & 18 are the only M sections. Story is complete. Enjoy!
1. Memories

_A/N: For those who have been waiting for the story of how Ziva and Gibbs got together in this universe I've created, the wait is over. (Yes, I am including you KurimoGrrl and abstractartist in that group. :D) Hope you all like this first chapter and the rest that is to come. A HUGE thank you goes out to iyimgrace and Sehrezad for your input and encouragement; I am fortunate to count you among my friends and to have you in my "writer's circle." And no thank you would be complete without a mention of my friends MollyGibbs101 and kaelleigh; your steadfast support and confidence warms my heart. And, lastly, THANKS also to CSIGurlie07 who agreed long ago that I needed to write this story; you were right, mi amiga. =) Enjoy! _

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Ziva and Gibbs sat close together on the couch in one of the rooms upstairs in his house. Ziva called it their sitting room, but Gibbs couldn't get used to that. For him, it was more like a living room than the one they had downstairs. A few months into their relationship, she had wished for a space where they could relax or watch TV without worrying that someone would just open the front door and walk in on them. So one weekend they'd cleared out a room on the second floor that held an old desk and file cabinet, and brought over Ziva's couch and some other furnishings. Slowly that room began to reflect both of them, separately and together. It was Ziva's favorite room in the house for that very reason. This room and the bedroom held the only outward reflections that Ziva lived here, too. Even in the kitchen and bathroom, she kept to the early habit of putting her things out of sight…but soon that would not be necessary.

Her head was resting on his shoulder and his hand was playing with her hair. Gibbs held a beer in his hand, while Ziva fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. It was Friday night and it had been a long week. But the main topic of conversation was tomorrow night. Gibbs had invited the team to come over for pizza and beer, but there was a hidden agenda: Ziva and Gibbs were finally going to tell the team that they were a couple.

"Are you nervous?" Ziva asked softly.

"Nope. You?" he returned, already knowing her answer.

She nodded.

He pressed her closer to him for a moment. "It'll be all right."

"You cannot know that for sure," she demurred.

"What I know is that I won't have it any other way," he said firmly.

She shook her head in the face of his certainty – some would say arrogance – but allowed a small smile.

"You realize DiNozzo's going to want the whole story of how it started and how we've managed to keep this to ourselves for two years," Jethro pointed out.

With the smile still on her face, she let the memories roll through her mind.

"It all started with that undercover operation, remember?" she reflected. "The one with Hoffman."

"It _started_ when I came back from Mexico to save your beautiful ass." He raised his beer to his lips as she pulled away to look at him in disbelief.

"It did not! I cannot believe you do not remember." Her tone was incredulous.

"Oh, I remember. I remember flying 3,000 miles all night with no sleep all because you were in a 'little' trouble." He rolled his eyes. "You know, we probably still have different definitions of a 'little' trouble."

She ignored that last bit to focus on the other. "You would have come back to help Abby or Tony or McGee."

"Probably," he agreed. "But all I could see at the time was that it was you."

He looked at her. "And that you didn't work for me anymore."

Her brows drew toward each other in puzzlement.

"There had always been something between us."

"I know," she agreed softly, one side of her mouth turning up.

"And even though we were focused on your 'little trouble,' the part of me that had always been attracted to you was chomping at the bit and was no longer reined in by Rule 12. So, that's when things started changing. For me anyway."

"But you left again right after – without even saying goodbye." Her voice got small at the end.

"Running scared," he admitted with a self-depreciating shake of his head.

"Scared? You?"

"Uh-huh." He cocked an eyebrow at her. "But if you say that tomorrow night, I'll deny it."

She snorted lightly, but started thinking back over what he'd said. It was true that she'd called him in Mexico when she'd been framed for murder and was on the run from the FBI, NCIS, Mossad and her father. She had called the one person who had always trusted her, who, without a doubt, she trusted back.

He had come, and together they had indeed saved her, with a little help from the team. He had left right after – she still wasn't buying that running scared part – but soon he was back to help Fornell…and that time he stayed.

After he was back, she began dropping by his house more and more frequently, and it gradually became a regular thing. She often cooked, and it was good for both of them to have someone with whom to sit at the kitchen table and eat a meal. Sometimes they just talked – occasionally assisted by his bottle of bourbon. There were times they simply kept each other company with very little conversation. They learned things about each other that neither talked about with anyone else. Over time, they became completely comfortable with each other, which was a first for them both. They were friends, best friends.

You could also say it was like they were dating, just without the sex.

And truthfully, there were moments of physical attraction, but both were careful to avoid bringing those into the open. Hello. Rule 12.

A few months later, they caught the case in which they met Roy Sander. Ziva was surprised to find that she really liked Roy. They had things in common, like running and their favorite quote. She only knew him for a few hours before poison claimed his life, but Ziva was tantalized by the thought of meeting someone who could accept her – even be attracted to her - for exactly who she was. She had decided that kind of relationship was destined to pass her by, because, honestly, she'd had those thoughts about Gibbs, but nothing had happened in all this time. But now she found herself wondering again...

Roy's death made her sad - sad for humanity's loss of a good man, and sad on a personal level, as though she'd missed out on something that might never come her way again. When she'd admitted as much to Gibbs during one of their late-night chats in his basement, he'd gotten a look on his face that she couldn't decipher. He'd told her not to give up, and suggested the person she was looking for might even be closer than she thought.

She'd looked at him with her brows furrowed, trying to decode the message he seemed to be sending, but he'd remained unreadable. Ziva knew she was missing something important, but was afraid to believe what her heart was telling her might be true. She was confused. Sometimes she could read his imperceptible signals - open a door, flank around to the back - as if he had said them aloud. But this she couldn't read to save her life. He was telling her something, but the signals were jammed. They had stared at each other for a long moment and then the moment was gone. He'd pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead and changed the subject, and neither had spoken of it again for months.

Gibbs sat lost in the memories, as well. Even from their rocky beginning, there'd always been a special connection between him and Ziva and in those months after he'd returned from Mexico that had deepened. He fell for her – hard – but was determined to bury it. He'd created Rule 12 for a reason, and he had no reason to believe he'd be any better at a relationship with Ziva than he'd been with his three ex-wives – which would not bode well for the team.

Hell, he'd even dated Hollis in an effort to avoid breaking Rule 12. Ziva had stopped coming around much then, and he'd missed her. But he had clung to his rules and his painful memories of Shannon and Jenny like a drowning man.

When Hollis realized she was never going to get something more permanent from Gibbs – though not for the reason she thought – she gave up on him and left. Ziva started coming around again and they soon found themselves back in their old routine. But those longing glances when they both thought the other wasn't looking and the hugs that lasted just a bit longer than necessary grew steadily in number.

Then, after months of pretending to ignore their growing attraction to each other, their watershed moment finally came.


	2. Flashback I

_A/N: THANK YOU to all of you who have reviewed and have put me and/or this story on your alerts and favorites! That is beyond awesome and appreciated more than you know. :D This chapter begins a flashback to the defining moments that changed the relationship between Ziva and Gibbs forever in this "Zibbs-verse" I've created; I'm glad you're joining me for the journey._

_This chapter is dedicated to my pal Geekery15 who has supported my writing all along, fluffiness and all. She nominated my "Healing" story for the LJ NCIS awards, and I just learned today that it won the Zibbs romance category - ! *happy dance happy dance* That would never have happened if she had not found that story to be worthy of nomination, and I appreciate it greatly. You rock, Sabrina!_

_And now, on with the story...Enjoy!_

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A few weeks later, Ziva went undercover in an attempt to solve a case in which military wives were being murdered. Her cover was blown and she was nearly killed. Gibbs had been so jarred that he'd been harsh with her. "I don't need to see you tomorrow."

Ziva was shaken by the experience, as well, and needed him – but he hurt her with that comment. A day later she returned to the bar where she'd been undercover and hooked up with Michael Locke, a man who'd taken an interest in her while she'd been undercover. She'd nearly slept with him – had, in fact, ended up in his bed - but she couldn't go through with it. She was finally honest enough with herself to acknowledge that the only person she wanted like this was Jethro. Her defenses were down and she was suddenly tired of ignoring the huge elephant in the room. She had nearly died that day. Next time she might. Did she really want that to happen without knowing what they could be to each other?

She left Michael's and her car took her to Gibbs' as if on autopilot. There was a storm brewing, in more ways than one. She entered the house quietly, immediately determining that he was in the basement. He looked up as she paused at the top of the stairs, fighting the sudden urge to turn tail and run.

"Ziver?" he'd questioned, knowing she was up there. He always knew when she was anywhere near him.

She came slowly down the steps, pausing on the bottom step with her hand on the rail. Her hair was windblown around her face. Her expression was both haunted and unguarded in a way he'd never seen.

"I know you said you didn't need to see me," she began huskily. "But…I needed to see you." As her eyes met his, he was surprised to see a sheen of tears and more than a little vulnerability.

Just then a loud clap of thunder made her jump and reach for the gun that was not holstered at her hip. He said softly, "Hey, just thunder," and came close enough to put his hands on her shoulders. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her hands into fists, trying to grab onto her control – and her nerves.

When she didn't pull away, he tugged her closer, hugging her to his chest. Her arms came slowly around his waist as she began to relax against him. She rubbed her cheek against his chest, taking comfort.

"It's all right, Ziver. You're safe here. I won't let anyone get to you."

For a long moment she just rested against him, gathering her courage for what she was about to risk. He was so important to her, as a friend, a co-worker, a team leader…she did not want to lose any of that. But she also wanted more and tonight the control that normally kept that under wraps was shattered.

"That is not it." She pulled back, wanting to tell him all of it, despite the nerves. Arms crossed protectively over her chest, hands rubbing her upper arms in an effort to soothe herself, she began wandering around his basement as she spoke.

"It is true that I was – am – shaken by what happened with Hoffman…but not only for the reasons you think." She paused. "And when you said you did not need to see me, I was hurt and even angry that you could not see that I did not want to be alone.

"I went back to the Oyster Lounge, and Michael Locke was there again." After another short silence, she took a breath and continued. "He wanted me …and I wanted…to be wanted."

She turned to look at him at that point. His gaze was unreadable, face almost blank.

"We went to his apartment and I ended up in his bed." If she hadn't been looking straight at him, she'd have missed his slight but unmistakable flinch. But seeing it gave her the daring to continue. She took a step toward him. "But nothing happened." Another step closer. "And do you know why nothing happened?" Another step, her eyes slowly revealing a depth of emotion.

"Why?" he whispered, almost against his will.

"Because the only person I really want…" closer she came… "the only person I need…" closer still… "is you."

One more step brought their bodies tantalizingly close. Moving oh-so-slowly, she slid her left hand up his chest, to his neck, into his hair. She looked at his lips, her tongue unconsciously darting out to lick her own bottom lip. His low moan empowered her and her mouth curved in a knowing smile.

She pulled his head slowly down to hers, and the contact was as electric as the storm that unleashed all its fury at that exact moment.

For an instant he froze. Then, his mouth was moving hungrily on hers and his hands were pulling her even closer, moving over her back, molding her to him.

Slowly, they came up for air and looked into each other's eyes. She had known it would be powerful, but she was amazed – almost shocked – at how incredibly right that kiss had felt. He gave her that half-smile she loved, the look in his eyes saying he wasn't surprised at all.

"Jethro?" she whispered tentatively.

He cupped her jaw in his hand and rubbed his nose against hers. "Ziva?" he returned teasingly.

"I –" She shook her head. She didn't really know what to say. But she knew she wanted to kiss him again. So she did.

This time the heat flared quickly until she was practically climbing up the front of him in an attempt to get closer.

He turned her so she was pressed against the side of his boat, trapping her between its hard surface and his own. His mouth wandered to her neck, licking, kissing, sucking…

"Oh my God," she gasped, arching against him.

"Mmmm…"he murmured in agreement. After several long moments, bit by bit, he took the heat down, brushing gentle kisses all the way back to her mouth where he kissed her slowly and tenderly.

As they pulled reluctantly apart, lips clinging, he made a conscious grab for his self-control. God knew he wanted her, but not when she was shaky, floundering.

He cupped her face in his hands and pressed a kiss to her forehead, then to her nose. With a gentle smile, he wrapped her in a hug that was warm, but not sexual.

"Gibbs? Is something wrong?" she asked, worried.

"Wrong? No." He shook his head. "Complicated, but not wrong."

He pulled back far enough to gaze directly into her eyes. "I want you, but I don't want this to be about Hoffman or Locke or you getting shot at."

"But –" she started to protest.

"Shhh…Just let me take care of you tonight. And when you're feeling yourself again, we'll talk."

She raised an eyebrow.

He smirked in that way she loved. "Ok, maybe more than talk." He leaned toward her lips again as if he couldn't help himself. "God, I hope more than talk." As he kissed her, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing as close as humanly possible.

This time when they pulled apart, he took her hand, pulling her toward the stairs. "Come on."

He took her to the couch, sat, and pulled her onto his lap, cradling her. She snuggled in, finally exactly where she wanted to be.

They talked a little, sharing some of those moments when they'd each felt those flashes of attraction they'd forcibly ignored. Gibbs told her that his heart had nearly stopped when he'd run into that warehouse and found her on the ground covered in blood. His control had cracked, and with his emotions riding high, he'd barked at her. And breaking another rule, he apologized for that.

He observed this wouldn't be easy and that he'd created Rule 12 for a reason…and admitted that worried him some. She told him that he meant more to her than NCIS and she would leave the agency if he wanted. But after he pointed out that she'd end up back in Israel or God knows where if she wasn't tied to NCIS, they'd decided it was better if she stayed right where she was.

The look in her eyes and the gentleness of her hands said she understood his concerns, but her kiss said this was more powerful than his rules or the fact that it would be complicated.

After a while, Ziva started to drift off to sleep, snuggling even closer. She shifted around trying to get comfortable, finding her clothes too constricting.

Jethro stood, still holding her. She protested.

"Just taking you upstairs. We'll find you something to sleep in."

"You do not have to carry me," she pointed out, without lifting her head from his shoulder.

"Turns out I like carrying you."

In his room he steadied her on her feet & found a long t-shirt. His boxers would just fall off her, so he didn't bother. He steered her toward the bathroom and pulled out a towel and, surprisingly, an unopened toothbrush.

She cocked a teasing eyebrow at him.

"Are you always this ready for overnight guests?" she teased, holding up the unopened toothbrush.

"Hate to shop, so I always buy a few at a time so I don't have to go as much." He grinned. "And it doesn't hurt to be ready for overnight guests."

She smiled, but her eyes flicked away. He cupped her cheek, bringing her gaze back to his. "Not that there have been many in the last couple of years."

She pressed her cheek into his hand and gave him a small smile of thanks for his reassurance.

Leaving her there, he stepped back into his room and changed into boxers and a t-shirt before going downstairs to lock up. He grabbed a blanket and pillow from a closet and tossed them onto the couch. Gibbs then went back up to check on Ziva, who was just coming out of the bathroom. His groin tightened and his heart rate kicked up at the sight of her in one of his t-shirts and little – _dear God, maybe nothing _- else, hair falling around her shoulders, face clean of any makeup.

Grabbing for his control with an iron will, he pulled back the covers on the bed and gestured for her to get in. She did, smiling as he tucked her in. She put her arms around his neck, and pulled him down for a long, deep kiss which he happily returned. She tried to pull him completely on top of her, but he resisted.

She looked up at him with dry amusement. "You really are determined to be noble about this, yes?"

"Even if it kills me," he confirmed ruefully.

He started to get up, but she held on. "Where do you think you are going?"

"Couch."

"If I promise to control myself, will you sleep here?" She gently traced his features with her fingertips, then gazed into his eyes.

"Not sure that's a good idea…my nobility might not hold up sleeping next to you."

"Please?"

He rested his forehead against hers, knowing he was beaten.

"OK," he acquiesced, reluctantly. "Let me get the lights."

After turning out the lights downstairs and brushing his teeth, Gibbs climbed into bed next to Ziva. She immediately scooted over and rested her head on his chest. He curled his arms around her and kissed her hair.

She let out a long sigh of contentment and cuddled closer.

"Goodnight, Jethro."

"G'night, Ziver."


	3. Flashback II

Gibbs awoke the next morning with a feeling of incredible warmth along his front…and softness. Felt like it had been a lifetime since he'd woken up to that kind of softness. Before he was even really awake he thought _Ziva_. He opened his eyes and discovered they'd shifted during the night. She was now on her side facing away from him and he was spooning her from behind. He smiled and enjoyed the feeling of holding her for a little longer until his need for coffee and his urge to make love to her drove him to get up.

He moved carefully, so as not to wake her, knowing she needed as much sleep as she could get after her recent experience. In testimony to how tired she was – and how safe she felt here with him - she didn't move as he got up.

He went downstairs and put on the coffee, filling a mug before the pot was finished brewing. He stood sipping that first cup, staring absently out the window as he thought back over the evening before.

He'd known he had feelings for her for a long time, but he'd been fully prepared to keep those buried. After all, Rule 12 existed for a reason. He had a good team and had no intentions of messing that up.

But…seeing her lying on that cold stone warehouse floor, unsure at first if she was alive or dead, had cracked his reserve. When she brought her feelings for him out into the open, that crack had blown wide open, and he found he wanted her more than he wanted to seal it back up. God help them both. He shook his head. Apparently sometimes you break your own rules – maybe he needed a rule to cover that, too.

For better or worse, it looked like they were about to break Rule 12.

When the coffee was finished brewing, he refilled his mug and poured one for Ziva.

Re-entering his bedroom, he placed both mugs on the nightstand nearest her and sat on the bed by her hip. In a risky move, he invaded her personal space. He leaned in and nuzzled her neck, breathing her in. She made an "Ummmm…" sound and pressed against him. Her eyes flew open at the contact, as though she were surprised.

She raised a gentle hand to his face, her senses coming to awareness. "I thought I was dreaming again," she whispered.

"Not a dream," he reassured her. "If it was, we wouldn't be about to get up and go to work."

"Oh? What would we do instead?" she asked flirtatiously.

"Maybe somethin' like this," he murmured, his throaty voice sending tingles down her spine. He lowered his mouth to hers for a thorough good morning kiss.

"Mmmm…you taste like coffee," she breathed when he raised his head, her eyes still closed to better revel in the sensations running through her.

"Brought you some."

Her eyes opened up at that, then she looked at him consideringly. "Unless I can convince you to come back to bed?" she asked with a lilt in her voice that managed to be both hopeful and sexy.

He groaned and rested his head against hers. "As tempting as that is, I want you to be sure." She started to assure him she was, but he stopped her with a finger on her lips. Then moving that finger seductively across her soft lower lip, he continued. "Plus, I want to take my time with you, and today we still have a case that needs to be solved."

She simply looked at him for a moment, silently wondering if a better man could possibly exist. "You are a good, good man, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. And you are right about the case."

Pressing a quick kiss to his lips, she sat up and eagerly reached for her mug of coffee. The too-big t-shirt slipped off her shoulder, giving him a tantalizing view that he couldn't resist. He pressed a kiss to her skin there as she took her first sip. She gave a moan of appreciation.

"Was that for me or the coffee?" he teased, blue eyes glinting.

"Both."

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The team solved the case over the next few days, discovering there were actually two killers involved in the deaths of those women. Once all the reports were written, Gibbs sent everyone home. It was Friday and they were off this weekend, lending an air that was almost giddy to their departure.

Tony and McGee suggested everyone go out for drinks. Tony asked Ziva to join them, as McGee called down to Abby & Ducky.

"I think I will pass tonight, Tony," she said with a small smile as she gathered her things. "But thank you."

"Boss?"

"Not tonight. You go ahead. Have fun."

As they all headed to the elevator, Ziva turned back to Gibbs who was still at his desk.

"You are not leaving?"

"Soon." He gave her his half-smile. "You go on."

She gave him a return smile that was rather uncertain and shrugged as if to say "Well…if you are sure…"

As she made her way to the parking garage, she acknowledged to herself that she felt a little awkward. OK, more than a little. They hadn't had any time alone since they'd left his house a few days ago. She'd hoped he would suggest they be together tonight, but maybe he was having second thoughts…which left her with a lonely, hollow feeling inside.

Just as she climbed into her car, her phone rang. The display said "Gibbs." _Had she forgotten to sign her report?_

"David," she answered.

"You up for grabbing some dinner?"

She smiled, the empty place inside her flooding instantly with warmth. And butterflies.

"I am up for more than that."

"That's good to hear. Pick you up in about an hour?"

"I will be ready," she promised.

"Oh, and Ziva? Pack a bag. I'm not feelin' real noble tonight."

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He had taken her to a little Italian restaurant called Giovanni's that was tucked into a charming block in an area she'd never visited. Gibbs was obviously a regular, and the couple who owned the place fussed over Ziva like a long-lost daughter. They clearly were used to seeing Gibbs on his own, but were thrilled to see him with a companion.

She looked up from her menu to find him staring. "What?" she asked a little self-consciously.

"You're gorgeous," he told her simply, his eyes leaving no doubt that he meant what he said.

Delight bloomed on her face, mixed with a hint of shyness, which he found absolutely endearing.

She tucked her hair behind her left ear, and resting her chin on her hand, she answered, "I am glad you think so."

He smiled, one of those full-blown-rarely-seen Gibbs smiles, that had her glowing in return.

After they ordered, he asked about some comment he'd overheard between Tony and McGee. As she related the story, he reached over and covered her hand with his, thumb rubbing across the back of her hand. She paused in mid-sentence, robbed of her train of thought. It was his turn to be delighted that he had that effect on her.

They both honestly enjoyed themselves, talking with the ease of two people who knew each other well and genuinely liked each other. Those moments of attraction that punctuated the conversation added a sizzle that felt deliciously exciting.

After dinner, they had walked along a nearby waterfront. Paused in the shadows looking out over the water, he pressed up against her from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Resting his cheek on her hair, Jethro spoke. "I know I told you to pack a bag for tonight, but I don't want to push you faster than you want to go."

She tilted her head to look up at him, trying to gauge where he was coming from with his question.

"I am quite certain I have been the only one of us doing any pushing," she pointed out, slightly amused.

She turned in his arms so they were pressed tightly together, front to front. The hunger in his gaze assured her that he hadn't given her an out because he hoped she'd take it. She pulled his mouth to hers and they kissed slowly, deeply.

"Jethro," she whispered, coming up for air and opening her eyes. "Take me home."

She looked at him directly, with no hesitation in her gaze. "With you."

The fervor in his muttered "Thank God" made her laugh as she pulled him toward his truck.

True to his word, they took their time with each other that first night, lingering over touches and kisses, whispered words driving them both over the edge. And while they loved each other slowly that first time, the intensity was more potent than anything either had ever known, sweeping away any last vestige of doubt that this was casual or fleeting.

They spent that weekend holed up in his house, focused on nothing but each other. The sex was beyond incredible – ranging from slow and deep and easy to hot and fast and unable to get enough. During those stolen days, they also talked and laughed and even cooked a little, and just enjoyed having this stretch of time together.

And through it all they discovered a depth of emotion that rocked them both and left them more than a little desperate to protect this fledgling connection.

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_A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews and alerts and favorites! *fluffy heart dances with glee* _ =)


	4. Perfect Fit

That first weekend set the tone for their relationship. Warmly affectionate. Incredibly erotic. And secret.

While Rule 12 had been thrown out the window, they kept Rule 4 with scrupulous attention: the best way to keep something a secret is to keep it to yourself. For the first year, keeping it to themselves had added a heady excitement. All of their lives Ziva and Gibbs had kept to personal codes of honor that included putting their country before themselves. But this…this was just for them. There was something almost decadent, yet freeing about being together simply for pleasure and enjoyment and comfort. And their desire to protect this from scrutiny or interference was nearly as strong as their desire for each other.

They went out for occasional dinners at out-of-the-way places, but mostly stayed in at his place or hers. Before the end of the first year, Ziva was living at his house all the time, though she kept her apartment for appearances sake. When schedules permitted, they took weekend getaways, consciously choosing places that were not well-traveled. But those romantic escapes without the constant pressure of someone they knew spotting them solidified their place in each other's lives and lent an air of normalcy to their situation. During these times, they were just like any other couple on vacation.

But as their relationship deepened and evolved, the secrecy engendered a sense that this was like an undercover op that would blow up if anyone found out. Yet, this was the part of their lives that came to feel the most real to them. By the second year, it was their friendships with the team and their work as special agents that began to feel like undercover identities they slipped into as they walked out of his door every morning and drove to work in separate cars.

Living a double life was wearing on them and did not do justice to the love they felt for each other or to the relationships they had with the team. They all deserved better than that. It was time to come out of the shadows.

_Back to present day…_

"Then you came back from Mexico…" she said, coming back to the present.

"And you started coming around all the time," he pointed out.

"I did not hear you complain," she said, brow cocked.

"No complaints," he assured her.

He paused, still thinking back, fingers playing almost absently with her curls. "I missed you when you stopped coming around much there for a while."

She knew instantly the period of time to which he was referring. "I could not watch you with her," she admitted softly.

He kissed her temple by way of apology. "You both deserved better than me using her to avoid what I felt for you." He shook his head. "I'm not proud of that."

She squeezed him tightly for an instant, offering comfort. "I did not like it, but do not be too hard on yourself," she told him, looking up into his face. From the comfort of her current position in his life, she could look at the situation with Colonel Mann from a more generous perspective. "You would never have risked my position with NCIS by taking the first step with us. You are too good a man for that."

"I don't know about that, though I wouldn't have knowingly given anyone a chance to take you away." He looked down at her, his hand smoothing over her hair. "I was hung up on my rules… and the fact that you deserved better."

His patented half-smile curved his mouth. "And then you took things into your own hands." He pulled her in for a quick, one-armed hug. "Thank God."

"Mhm," she smiled back at him. "Although at first, you were worried…and noble. Remember?"

"I remember." He smirked ruefully. "That lasted all of a few days."

"It lasted long enough for me to think you had decided that you didn't need this complication in your life," she admitted. Then she smiled, remembering what followed. "And then my phone rang and it was you."

"Didn't need the complications," he confirmed, "but needed you." That earned him a kiss that curled his toes.

Coming up for air, she snuggled into his chest, allowing more memories to roll through her mind. "For our first date you took me to Giovanni's," she reminded him. "It is still my favorite restaurant."

"And Sal and Angie still like you better than me," he snorted, referring to the Italian couple who owned the place, secretly delighted that the couple had taken to Ziva from the moment he'd introduced them.

She laughed, but didn't contradict him. It was true.

"It is just that I speak Italian," she consoled him with a twinkle in her eye.

For a moment they sat in silence, completely content.

"I cannot believe it has been two years," Ziva marveled.

"You're amazed you've put up with this old man that long?" he questioned, teasing. "That makes two of us."

She gave him a not-so-light mock punch on the shoulder.

"You are not old," she said firmly. "You are simply older than I am."

"By a lot," he murmured sardonically, sipping from the beer he was still holding, then placing it on the end table beside him.

She pulled back and narrowed her eyes at him, unwilling to hear anything negative on that subject, even from him.

He shrugged and gave her a smile that was a little self-deprecating. His hand gently cupped her jaw, while his thumb brushed her cheekbone and his fingers tunneled into her hair. A touch of wonder shone in his eyes, testimony to the fact that part of him was truly amazed that she was with him, even after all this time.

"You could have anyone you wanted," he said, looking deeply into her chocolate brown eyes. "Sometimes it's hard for me to believe you picked me."

Her gaze softened and her hand came up to press his hand more tightly to her cheek. Turning her face, she pressed a kiss to his palm.

Then she pulled herself over his lap so she was straddling him. Cupping his face in her hands, she looked intently into those piercing blue eyes of his that she would swear could see all the way to her soul.

"You are the best thing that has ever happened to me," she told him, her voice ringing clear as a bell. "And I do not want anyone but you."

He gazed into her face, those vague worries melting in the face of the truth shining from her eyes. His hands came up to settle comfortably on her hips; squeezing in appreciation.

"And soon everyone will know it." She brushed a kiss across his mouth. Raising her head, her eyes took on a happy sparkle. "You know what that means."

He raised a brow in silent question.

"It means we can actually go out to dinner or to a movie without worrying that someone will see us."

"It also means DiNozzo will have a smart-ass comment every time we're alone together in the elevator," Gibbs offered dryly.

"More headslaps in store for him, then, yes?" she grinned. He chuckled, glad to see cheerful humor, rather than apprehension, in her eyes.

"And it means I can finally stop paying rent for an apartment I am never in," Ziva continued in a satisfied voice.

The look in Jethro's eyes shifted, a curious mix of certainty and vulnerability replacing the easy smile. Before she could ask what he was thinking, he spoke again.

"It also means I can finally give you this."

She looked at him in confusion as he steadied her with a hand at the small of her back and leaned over to open the drawer in the table beside the couch. He pulled out a small black velvet ring box he'd hidden there earlier and placed it gently in her hands. She looked at it in shock, heart pounding, then raised her gaze to his. Warring with the "Is this what I think it is?" look in her eyes was hope – _Oh, please God - _that it was indeed exactly that.

"Jethro?" she whispered, barely audible.

His smile was so gentle that her breath caught in her lungs. After tucking her hair behind her left ear, he cupped her jaw in his hand. He looked deeply into her big brown eyes.

"You complete me in ways I never expected to find again. And I am a better man because of what we have together. No matter what happens tomorrow, I want you with me for the rest of my life and I want the whole world to know you're mine."

She was so moved by his words, her throat thickened with tears and she had to try twice before she could speak. She cradled the ring box protectively to her heart. "You are sure you do not wish to wait?" she husked, leaving _until after tomorrow_ unsaid.

"I'm sure."

He rested his forehead against hers. "Please say yes."

"You have not actually asked me a question yet," she pointed out shakily, tears of joy starting to spill down her face.

He gave her his half-grin, then nodded his head once to acknowledge she was right.

Placing his hands on her waist, Jethro lifted her off his lap and sat her beside him. Sliding off the couch, he went down on one knee in front of her. He took the jeweler's box from her hands and opened it to reveal a beautiful star-shaped diamond in a platinum setting. Smaller diamonds flowed in a ribbon from both sides of the larger central diamond down onto the band.

"I love you, Ziva David. Will you please marry me?"

The happiness on her face would stay with him forever.

"Yes. Yes, Jethro. I would be honored to marry you." With a joyful cry, she threw her arms around his neck, almost knocking him off balance. "I love you," she whispered in his ear. "So much."

His laugh was pure, unadulterated delight. He steadied them both and hugged her tightly, relieved she hadn't said no or made him wait for her answer.

When she pulled back, he took the ring from the box and slipped it on her finger. Perfect fit. Ziva couldn't stop staring at it and he couldn't stop looking at her.

Pulling him back up to the couch she crawled into his lap, cupping the back of his head with her hands. Leaning into him, she kissed him deeply and slowly, putting everything she felt for him into it. Both of their hearts were racing by the time she raised her head.

"How long have you been planning this?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Found the ring a few weeks ago. Wanted to find the right moment." He brushed a kiss across her lips. "How'd I do?"

"Perfect. You were perfect." She kissed him again, unable to resist. She loved his lips and everything else about him. After a few long moments, she buried her face into his neck. His arms tightened around her, holding her close.

"I was certain you would never want to get married again," she said in a low voice. "But I dreamed of being married to you."

"It bother you that I have three ex-wives?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I do not really understand it, though. It does not fit with the man I know."

At first, she thought he wasn't going to say anything.

"It was only after I stopped trying to replace what I'd lost, that I found the one who matters most."

With his quiet words, her heart simply melted.

Leaning her forehead to his, she whispered in a voice rough with emotion, "How is it possible that you say the most perfect things to me so often?"

"Beats the hell outta me," he grinned, only partially joking.

Laughter bubbled up out of her, mixing with tears of happiness that trickled down her face again.

"God, I love you," she said.

They looked at each other for a moment, blissful contentment arcing between them.

Then her gaze narrowed in mock fierceness. "And, just so you know, there will be no more divorce in your future."

He smiled. "Promise?" he asked, the huskiness in his voice betraying the need behind the question.

"Promise," she returned, in a tone that left no room for doubt.

He pulled her even closer, finding her mouth with his. The kiss began soft and sweet, lips clinging, pulling. Then his tongue licked along her bottom lip, requesting entrance. She gladly obliged, and the heat built between them exponentially. She pressed tightly against him, sliding her hands up inside his shirt as he lost himself in her sweet mouth. He loved the feel of her strong yet delicate hands stroking his skin – _God, yes. _Craving more of her, his hands mirrored hers, finding her softness under her clothes. Breathy sounds of need were soon coming from both of them.

Wanting to take this someplace more comfortable, Ziva slowly slipped off his lap and stood in front of him, holding out the hand that now sparkled with the diamond he'd given her.

"Come to bed, Jethro." Her voice sent shivers down his spine, and he had no desire to resist her come-hither smile even for a moment. He took the hand she offered, pressed a kiss to the spot where his ring encircled her finger, and allowed her to pull him up against her.

"My pleasure," he murmured against her skin, his mouth finding that sensitive spot on her neck that never failed to zing goosebumps down her arms. She gasped, hips arching more firmly into his.

"And yours," he added wickedly, a sexy glint in his eyes.

She laughed out of pure happiness as he scooped her up in his arms, and her lips captured his in another hot kiss. Grinning against each other's mouths and murmuring sexy words to each other, he carried her to their bed, where their celebration continued long into the night.

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_A/N: A HUGE thank you goes out to iyimgrace and Sehrezad for their input on this story_. _And a round of applause, please, for Geekery15 and iyimgrace for their avatar re-sizing assistance! New one is up in celebration of this update. And, last but not least, THANK YOU ALL for reading, reviewing, alerting and "favoriting" - it means more than I can say. =)_


	5. The Big Reveal

_A/N: This chapter comes with a HAPPY BIRTHDAY! shout to CSIGurlie07. Clearly, I'm channeling your "Zangst" with this one. =) THANKS to you all for reading!  
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The next morning Ziva began cleaning everything in sight as a means of handling her nerves. After she'd cleaned the house – including the refrigerator and the oven – she cleaned her weapons. Then moved on to his.

By one o'clock she'd run out of things to clean – and she still had five hours to go. She found Gibbs in the basement working on his boat.

"Instead of pizza, I think I will cook tonight."

He stopped his work and considered her. "You don't have to do that."

"I know." She looked at him beseechingly. "I need something to do."

He knew she did. "Sounds great. Everyone loves your cooking, especially me."

That earned him a kiss on the cheek.

"I am going to the store; I will be back."

"Want me to go with you?"

She shook her head. "I am still deciding what I want to make, so I will be puttering a bit – never your favorite activity at the grocery. You stay and work on your boat."

With a quick kiss to his mouth, she was off, her mind already on her next mission.

Ziva shopped at her favorite fresh market, which also carried many good quality Middle Eastern foods. She decided to make a favorite dish of hers from home that her mother used to cook. It had beans, vegetables and rice seasoned with a blend of herbs and spices, all cooked together. Oh, and she would have baked chicken breast to go with it; after all, it was not really dinner to Jethro unless there was meat involved. She shook her head with a small smile. She found the makings for the salad she wanted to put together and freshly baked flat bread that she would warm in the oven just before eating. _Hmmm…what to have for dessert?_ she wondered as she continued her shopping.

Returning home, she prepped and cooked most of the afternoon. The heavenly smells eventually drew Gibbs from the basement. Coming up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling her hair. "Mmmmm…smells good."

"Thank you," she returned, putting the final touches on the cucumber, tomato and feta cheese salad. With a quick press of appreciation to his arms, she stepped away to put it in the refrigerator.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"You could set the table while I take a quick shower."

He got that certain glint in his eye. "Or I could wash your back in the shower and then set the table after." He advanced toward her purposefully.

She glanced at the clock and threw him a dubious look. "We do not have much time…"

"Now, see, that sounds like a challenge. I'm always up for a challenge."

"You are always 'up' for shower sex," she pointed out as he put his hands on her hips and tugged her to him.

He licked his way up her neck. "This would be the first time you complained about that," he murmured in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

As his teeth tugged at her earlobe, her breath caught and she melted even further.

"Who is complaining?" She pulled his mouth to hers hungrily and starting walking him to the stairs.

After their shower – which did include back washing in addition to amazing sex, all with plenty of time to spare, Gibbs noted smugly – he dressed quickly and went to set the table. When Ziva wasn't down by the time he was finished, he went looking for her. He found her sitting on their bed, staring at her engagement ring as she rubbed it back and forth with her right thumb. He leaned against the door frame to their room, hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

"It's about time for them to get here," he said softly.

She nodded, but didn't look up. He walked over and knelt in front of her. Placing his hands on her legs, he silently waited for her to speak.

"There is no way Abby will not notice my ring right away, and I want the chance for us to tell them first, to explain…" She paused and raised her gaze to his. "So, I should take it off…but I do not want to," she finished softly, the look in her eyes more than a little lost.

"I could hang onto it for you."

She shook her head. "I do not want it that far away," she admitted quietly.

"For the record, I'm not planning to be far away from you at any point tonight."

Ziva lowered her gaze back to her hands and lifted one shoulder in a shrug that said she was at a loss to further explain her feelings, and was a little embarrassed by that.

"Your pocket?"

She shook her head. "Too…casual," she said, searching for the right word.

When he didn't offer another suggestion right away, she muttered, "You must think I am being ridiculous."

With his left hand, he tipped her face up to his again. His right hand covered her left, his thumb rubbing her ring, soothing them both. There was a small but understanding smile on his face.

"I think," he began with a slow drawl, "that you love your new ring…and maybe even the guy who gave it to you." He rubbed his nose against hers, teasing. She laughed lightly and nodded, a ghost of a smile on her lips as she started to relax. He shifted so his arms were around her.

"I also think you're nervous, but worrying isn't going to change the outcome tonight."

She laid her head on his shoulder, slumping a little. He gathered her closer, resting his head on her hair.

"I am afraid Abby will hate me," she whispered so faintly that he almost didn't hear her.

"She won't hate you. She'll be hurt that we didn't tell her, but she'll come around.

"And, if worse comes to worst, we'll quit our jobs and travel the world," he stated to distract her.

"Oh? And how will we support ourselves?"

"We could join the circus. How about a knife-throwing act?"

She looked up at him suspiciously. "Who gets to throw the knives?" she asked, playing along.

He rolled his eyes. "Everyone knows the guy gets to throw the knives at the beautiful woman."

"But I am the better knife thrower," she pointed out. "So I should get to throw the knives and you can be the handsome target."

"Huh. Maybe I'll have to rethink this plan."

Her chuckle this time was real. He eased back slightly, leaving his arms looped around her waist.

"Ready to go downstairs?"

She looked at her ring again, still needing to make decision on that first.

"I did think of hanging it around my neck, but this chain is too short." She took hold of her Star of David necklace and slid the pendant back and forth on the chain.

"Unless…I change my shirt…" She turned to move toward the closet.

He stopped her. From the looks of things, she'd already changed her shirt three times, undoubtedly another byproduct of her edginess. They didn't need her to start that again.

He shook his head. "You look beautiful." He tilted his head toward the small wooden box he'd made her that sat on the dresser and held her jewelry. "Got a longer chain in there?"

"Oh. I think so." She went to the box and found one. He stood and went to her as she reluctantly slipped her ring off her finger and onto the chain. It was a long one, so she fastened it before raising her arms to put it on. His hands intercepted hers and he slipped it over her head. She clasped her ring tightly in a fist for a moment before tucking it inside her shirt.

Cupping her face, he kissed her deeply. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered. Wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest, she said, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For understanding me," she clarified.

He smiled, hugging her back, before guiding her to the doorway with a hand on the small of her back.

Then the mischievous gleam was back in his eyes. "I also understand that I'll be the knife thrower in our circus act." His intent was to get her easy confidence back in play and he succeeded.

"You had better be careful, or I will get my knives out right now and show you a thing or two," she threatened playfully.

With a smile on both their faces, they went downstairs. It wasn't long before the team started arriving, several of them meeting up in the driveway.

As Tony came in, he sniffed appreciatively. "Thought we were having pizza, but that smells way better."

Ziva gave a small smile. "Thank you, Tony. I had some time on my hands this afternoon, so I offered to cook."

"And yet another glimpse into the never-ending talents of Ziva David. You know, they should make a movie about you," Tony observed. "It'd be like Julia Childs meets Rambo." There was laughter all around, though Gibbs also looked as though he was trying to decide if a headslap was in order. Ziva shook her head with a grin and rolled her eyes as she headed to the kitchen.

Ziva busied herself with the finishing touches for the meal and everyone helped put the dishes on the table. They sat and ate family style, conversation flowing easily. Well, for most. Ziva was very quiet and really only picked at her food. Jethro had purposely directed people as to where to sit so that he was right next to her. Surreptitiously, he laid the back of his hand on her thigh, waiting for her to put her hand in his. Carefully she did, and he squeezed hers in reassurance. As she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, he looked meaningfully at her barely-touched plate. She took the hint and tried to eat a little more before someone asked what was wrong.

Everyone complimented Ziva on dinner, which she accepted with a smile. Since they were all feeling full, Ducky suggested holding off on having the chocolate mousse she'd made for dessert and everyone readily agreed. The cleared the table together, leaving the dishes in the sink for now.

Most of them took something to drink with them into the living room. McGee, Abby & Tony settled on the couch, while Ducky took an armchair. Gibbs came in last, Ziva right in front of him. He sat in his recliner, and she took up a standing position behind him, arms resting on the back.

"So, Boss," Tony began. "Why'd you invite us all here? Not that I'm complaining about the meal." He toasted Ziva with his beer bottle. She acknowledged him with a nod and a small smile of thanks.

"Well, DiNozzo, we have something we want to tell you."

"We?" Tony laughed. "You sound like the Queen of England – what's with the royal we?"

The others chuckled, while Gibbs smiled a little.

"He means the us 'we,' Tony," Ziva said quietly.

Tony looked at her in confusion. "I think you're messing up on your English again, Zee-vah. That doesn't even make any sense."

"Actually, it makes perfect sense, DiNozzo," said Gibbs enigmatically.

Now everyone was looking confused.

His eyes on the team, Gibbs reached a hand up and Ziva took it. The look on Tony's face would have been comical if the situation hadn't felt so dire.

"Gibbs?" asked Abby faintly, her eyes frozen on their joined hands.

He didn't want to beat around the bush, so he just came out and said it.

"Ziva and I are together."

Silence.

"Well, of course you're together – we're all here together…" Tony's voice faded as he realized he was grasping at straws, trying to ignore the obvious.

More silence.

"How long has this been going on?" Duckly asked after a moment, not ungently.

"Two years," Ziva answered. Her voice was soft, but firm.

An audible gasp escaped Abby's lips, while McGee's mouth dropped open. Tony's face registered complete shock, while even Ducky appeared thrown off guard.

"Two years? No way," Tony scoffed, the first to find his voice. "There is no way we wouldn't have figured it out or seen something in two years!"

"You really think the two of us couldn't pull off an undercover operation, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"But –" Tony started to protest, then realized he didn't know what to say.

"Well, if anyone could, it'd be you guys," offered McGee. The revelation had been a total surprise, but he was trying to catch up and be supportive.

"Thank you, McGee." Ziva smiled at him, though it didn't quite reach her eyes yet.

"What about your famous Rule 12?" Abby challenged, her posture screaming betrayal.

Gibbs snorted a rueful breath out his nose. "Went out the window after she was almost killed."

Seeing their confusion deepen, Ziva offered, "The undercover assignment where my cover was blown and Hoffman nearly shot me."

"You've been together ever since?" McGee asked, making a valiant effort to connect the dots.

They nodded. Their eyes met and it was impossible to miss the deep devotion they held for each other. Wanting her closer, Jethro tugged at her hand until she came around and sat on the arm of his chair.

Silence reigned once again.

"Well, this is a surprise," Ducky commented, stating the obvious. "What made you tell us now?"

Ziva spoke first. "The thing about undercover operations is that they are not real. And this is very, very real." She squeezed Jethro's fingers tightly, desperate for further support. He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss there.

Gibbs did not like the vibes in the room and decided they needed to know exactly where things stood. "Besides, if you don't know, you can't come to the wedding."

"The wedding? Gibbs!" Abby practically shrieked.

"You're getting married?" Tony's voice was incredulous.

"Jethro asked me last night and I said yes," Ziva related. "Please understand. We have wanted to tell you for a while now, but it was difficult to know how to do so after all this time. It is more my fault that we waited so long; I was afraid." Ziva averted her eyes from the team, as they looked at her in surprise. Ziva was never afraid of anything.

"I was afraid of exactly this," she admitted softly, her voice breaking. "Please do not take it out on Gibbs; he does not deserve that."

"Ziva-" Gibbs started.

She interrupted him with a press of her fingers against his and with a sad smile, she husked, "I will start the coffee for dessert, yes?"

Needing to get out of there, Ziva moved quickly into the kitchen, wiping at her cheeks. Gibbs looked deliberately at the members of his team, one by one. Then, without saying a word, he followed her.


	6. Family

_A/N: OK, this one is a marathon, not a sprint. :D Even leaving some stones unturned (forever? for now? only the muse knows for sure ^_^ )_, _there's a lot of ground to cover after two years...and some reconnecting to be done, as well._

_My heartfelt thanks goes out to iyimgrace & Sehrezad for their continued input as this story has progressed and to all my Gang for their support. A round of applause, please, for iyimgrace for her avatar assistance so I could put up a new profile pic in honor of this chapter. Check it out - I love it. And it's in sepia..._

_This chapter was originally planned to be the last in this story, except for a little Vance epilogue. However, if the scenes jumping up and down, waving madly, shouting "write me! write me!" are any indication, there is more to come. I hope you'll stay tuned. For now, grab a mug or glass of your beverage of choice and settle in to read. I'd love to hear what you think. Enjoy!_

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You could have cut the tension in the living room with a knife. Drinks that had been forgotten in the wake of the big news were suddenly of extreme interest. At first, no one knew what to say. Tony finally ended the silence with a question, his tone more bewildered than distressed.

"None of you knew anything about this?"

McGee spoke for them all. "Not even a hint."

The room was quiet once again as they each processed the revelation in his or her own way. Then Ducky spoke.

"Well. I must say I did not expect this, to be sure. But the one thing I do know is that those two," nodding his head toward the kitchen, "deserve happiness more than anyone else I know. Far be it from me to tarnish that happiness for even one moment longer." With that, he rose purposefully from his chair and made his way to Gibbs and Ziva.

As McGee made to follow him, Abby's cutting question stayed him. "You're just going to forgive them, too?" Her comment was selfish and unyielding on the surface, but Tim could hear the underlying hurt and vulnerability that were really driving her initial reaction.

His response was soft, but equally unbending. "As far as I'm concerned, there's nothing to forgive. They don't have to live their lives as though it's all about us." He pressed an understanding squeeze to her shoulder. "You'll remember that once you stop being worried that everything's going to change. And most importantly, they're our friends and they deserve our support. You'll remember that, too."

With that he got up from the couch and followed Ducky to the kitchen.

Ziva had intended to actually make coffee, but the sadness squeezing her heart stopped her in her tracks. She stood with one arm braced against the counter, head down. The other hand came up to grip her engagement ring through her shirt like a lifeline.

Jethro entered the kitchen and moved to her, placing his hands on her shoulders, rubbing gently.

"I guess I had hoped they would move from 'surprised' to 'happy for us' more quickly than they appear to be," she admitted softly. Her voice sounded so forlorn that it nearly broke his heart.

"Hey," he said, turning her to him. "They may need some time, but they'll come around."

"What if they do not?" she whispered.

"Then we'll deal with it." He lifted her chin to look her in the eyes, his gaze unwavering. "And what's with throwing yourself under the bus out there? Keeping this from them is on both of us."

"I know. It is just … they need you, too – and you need them. I do not want their feelings for you to change."

"Oh, but it's okay if their feelings change for you? Not in my book." Jethro's voice was firm on that count.

She shrugged. "I am more … expendable."

Her comment, delivered in a completely matter-of-fact tone, simply floored him.

"You are not expendable. Not to me you aren't." How had he missed the fact that this situation would lay bare her normally-well-camouflaged insecurity that perhaps she didn't fully belong anywhere? "And not to them, either."

In response she simply buried her face in his neck, breathing him in. He held her for a moment, resting his cheek on the top of her head. He wished he could find words that would ease her worry that, for the second time in her life, she was about to lose her family. But he'd never been good with those, so he went with what he knew.

"I love you," he told her quietly.

She visibly relaxed a little and pulled back far enough to look into his eyes. A ghost of a smile graced her lips. "We love each other," she corrected, pulling him down for a soft kiss.

An _Ahem_ from the doorway caused them to break off the embrace. When Ziva moved to step away, Gibbs refused to let her go, keeping her tucked in against him. He shifted so he was slightly between Ducky and her, the stance clearly as protective as it was loving.

"Hey, Duck," Jethro said to the man hovering in the doorway.

As he ambled toward them, Ducky said, "You know, I have often wished that both of you would find someone with whom to share your lives outside of work, but I had no idea you would each be that person for the other." He looked at Gibbs. "And while I had hoped we were beyond keeping secrets from each other, Jethro …" causing Gibbs to wince a little, "I cannot say as I blame you for keeping this to yourselves. Sometimes we feel the need to protect that which is most precious to us."

He smiled at them. "Allow me to be the first to say that I could not be happier for both of you."

"I'll second that," said McGee from somewhere behind Ducky.

Ziva caught her breath and, after a quick squeeze, released Jethro to wrap her arms around Ducky. Gibbs let her go this time, watching as his old friend enveloped the woman he loved in a sincere hug, releasing her only when McGee said, "My turn."

Ziva gave a light laugh and turned to embrace him, too. "Thank you," she whispered next to his ear. Still within the circle of his arms, she reached a hand back to Ducky. "Thank you both." Her voice was husky with unshed tears.

"Hey – what am I? Chopped liver?" came Tony's voice. "Come on people; share the love."

With another chuckle breaking through the happy tears that had now spilled over, Ziva let go of McGee and Ducky. Tony came closer and put both hands on her shoulders, while Ducky stepped toward Jethro.

Eyes narrowed in a playful yet considering look, head tilted, Tony interrogated her. "This is what you want?"

"This is what I want," she confirmed, her voice leaving no room for doubt.

"And he treats you all right?"

Ziva smiled. "Yes, Tony. He treats me more than all right."

"Hey, I'm not the one who threatened to get my knives out to keep someone in line," Jethro interjected.

When Tony looked at her in surprise, she admitted, "True."

Tony jerked his head once in approval. "Well, that's a relief! I was afraid you'd completely domesticated our little ninja assassin."

"Not completely," Gibbs smirked.

As Tony wrapped Ziva in a hug of his own, Ducky confronted Gibbs.

"And lest you think our long friendship extends some special status, Jethro, you should know that if you hurt this dear girl, you will have to deal with me."

"Count me in on that," Tony said over Ziva's shoulder.

"Make that three," McGee added, with a steady gaze for his boss.

Jethro tucked in one side of his mouth in his trademark grin. "I'll hold you to that," he said, looking at the men with approval. He was glad their first instinct was to protect and defend Ziva, even from him if need be – and that she was standing there to hear it. "But you might have to take a number."

"Behind who?" Tony asked indignantly, letting go of his partner.

Ziva raised a hand. "Hello. Former Mossad," she pointed out.

"And Werth," Gibbs added.

"He knows?" McGee asked.

"As does M. Allison Hart," Ziva added, nodding. "They were each here once when I came home."

"And Hart lived to tell - or not tell - about it?" Tony questioned incredulously.

"Barely," Jethro murmured with a grin.

"She is not worth going to jail over," Ziva said dismissively. "Unless she pushes me too far," she added with a slit-eyed look for Jethro.

He held up his hands in mock surrender, making the other guys chuckle.

Despite the general air of acceptance and relief in the kitchen, it was glaringly obvious that one person had not yet come in from the living room. They all caught Ziva's furtive look toward the doorway and the way she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. The guys shared a meaningful look.

"Well, I believe this celebration calls for more than coffee," Ducky declared. "I am going to take care of that."

He turned to Tony and McGee. "Perhaps you fellows will go off in search of something appropriate from which to drink champagne? I refuse to toast the happy couple with mason jars from Jethro's workbench."

Gibbs smirked and the younger men agreed. "On it," said Tony. "Come on, McGoogle. I'll drive and you can work your search magic on your phone."

McGee nodded. He gave Ziva another quick squeeze. "Don't worry," he whispered in her ear. "She'll be okay with this. She just needs to catch up."

The men left and Gibbs moved to his fiancée. "Three down and one to go," he murmured with a smile, cradling her head in his hands, thumbs caressing her jaw. She grasped his wrists and raised worried eyes to his.

"Give me a minute, OK?" he asked of her. She nodded and with a quick kiss to her forehead, he went into the living room.

He found Abby sitting in the same position as earlier, eyes down, fingers plucking pitifully at her skirt.

"Abs?" he said softly as he walked in.

She didn't answer, and she didn't look up.

He sat beside her, his forearms resting on his knees, hands clasped.

"Talk to me, Abs."

She shrugged. "Don't know what to say."

"Start with whatever is running around in that pretty head of yours."

She glanced up at him, then her eyes darted away again. He waited. After a moment, she spoke, her voice so low at first he had to strain to hear.

"I thought we were closer than that … close enough that you wouldn't be able to keep something like this from me." She looked up at him, her voice strengthening. "From _me_, Gibbs.

"And for all this time …" She looked away again. "I guess I'm wondering if we were as close as I thought."

He pulled her to him in a one-armed hug. "We're close, Abby. Always have been, always will be."

"Then why didn't you tell me?" she asked in a small voice.

"Rule 4, Abs," he answered. Then he elaborated.

"At first, we didn't know where this was headed, and we didn't want anything to change with the team or Eli to have a reason to pull her back to Israel. The longer we waited, the harder it was to say something. And she is not mostly to blame for that; it was both of us."

"It feels like you lied," Abby said quietly, picking at her skirt again.

"Actually, we got really good at saying nothing at all or just not telling the whole truth."

He looked her full in the face. "We're family, Abs, all of us; nothing is gonna change that. But some things still feel dicey, even with family. Take some time if you have to, but I need you to be good with this; it's important to me."

He leaned down and added into her ear, "And that woman in the kitchen? She was most worried about you."

With a kiss to her cheek, he stood. "I'm going to round up some mason jars just in case. I won't be long." His meaning was clear as he looked at her: he'd give her a little time to do the right thing, but he wasn't leaving Ziva alone for any longer than that. He headed to his basement, jogging down the steps.

Abby brooded in silence for a minute, then stared wistfully at the kitchen doorway.

Gibbs' reassurance had helped, but she was still reeling a little. Everything felt so different in light of their news …

Then she heard Tim's voice again in her head and her inner tumult just…settled. _God, what was she doing? This wasn't about __her__. And no matter what, they were more than friends who worked together; they were family. _In one of her lightning-quick changes of mood, Abby jumped up and ran into the kitchen. She made a beeline for Ziva, wrapping her in one of her famous attack hugs. Ziva was startled at first, then too grateful to do anything but hug her back.

"Abby," she whispered, "I am sor-"

"No." Abby cut her off. "I'm the one who's sorry for needing a little time to wrap my head around this. I love you guys and I just want you to be happy."

"We love you, too," Ziva answered, tears threatening again. "And we are."

Both women relaxed into the hug.

Jethro came to the doorway just in time to see Abby jerk back and grip Ziva's upper arms with a stern look. "And if you even think of asking anyone else to be your maid of honor, just know that I can take her."

"I would not dream of asking anyone else, Abby," Ziva reassured her, only to be wrapped in an even tighter hug than before.

Ziva looked at Jethro over Abby's shoulder and mouthed, "Help!"

He grinned and said, "I think you can let her go now, Abs. She needs to be breathing to drink champagne."

"Oh!" Abby let go of her so fast she almost stumbled.

Gibbs moved to stand behind Ziva and wrapped his arms around her waist. He looked at Abby, communicating his thanks without a single word.

"Why don't you check on the guys, Abs?" Gibbs suggested, wanting Ziva alone for a moment.

Abby got that immediately. "Sure thing, Gibbs," she responded, her ponytails swinging as she turned to head back to the living room and her cell phone.

He turned Ziva in his arms. Then with a smug look, he teased her, "Told you so."

Her laugh was music to his ears. She snuggled into him, pressing her cheek to his chest.

"And now it's time to get this back where it belongs," Jethro added determinedly.

He put just enough distance between them so that he could tug the long chain gently out from under her shirt and pull it over her head. Removing the ring, he tucked the chain in his pocket. Taking her hand, he pushed the ring back on her finger exactly where it was meant to be. The last of her tension melted away as she gazed at the sign of his promise to marry her.

With joy shining in her eyes, she slid her left hand up around to the back of his neck and asked, "Have I mentioned that I love you?"

"Once or twice," he murmured, bending toward her lips. "But it never gets old."

Their kiss started out slow and tender and healing, then morphed into hot and needy and oblivious to the rest of the world.

Tony's voice pulled them apart. "Ack! Probie, cover your eyes! You're too young to see this."

Laughing, Gibbs and Ziva turned their faces to the doorway to find Abby looking on in awe, hands clasped under her chin, while Ducky and McGee grinned widely.

Tony continued with his antics, pushing by Abby to come into the kitchen. "Okay, break it up, Mom & Dad. The kids are back and we come bearing gifts."

Ziva cocked a brow at Jethro. "Mom?" she murmured in a low voice.

He shrugged, giving her a look that said _Don't ask me._

In direct contrast to earlier, the conversation flowed easily now. Abby squealed as she caught sight of Ziva's ring, and everyone "oohed" and "ahhed" over it. Tony pretended to be shocked that Gibbs had managed to pick out something stunning yet elegant all by himself. Ducky's choice of champagne was approved, and the others teased Gibbs and Ziva good-naturedly about the second bottle he'd bought them for a private celebration. With great fanfare, Tony presented them with their first wedding gift: lovely crystal champagne flutes from McGee and him.

After everyone had a glass of the bubbly, Ducky claimed the right to give the toast. For once, he kept it short and sweet. "To Jethro and Ziva. May your years together be long and blessed with more joy than two hearts can possibly contain."

"Here, here," agreed the others, and glasses clinked gently all around.

They moved back into the living room and settled into much the same positions as before. This time, however, Ziva started out sitting on the arm of Jethro's chair.

Abby asked tentatively, "So … can we ask you guys some stuff?"

Gibbs and Ziva looked at each other silently. Ziva shrugged at him as if to say it was all right with her, but it was ultimately his call. She was sensitive to the fact that he was still the team leader and he might not be comfortable with a question and answer session.

He glanced back at Abby with a nod. "Okay. Shoot."

Then with a look at DiNozzo, he added, "But keep it clean."

"Hey!" Tony protested. "Why are you looking at me?"

Everyone else rolled their eyes.

"Okay, okay," he admitted. "Maybe my mind jumped to the two of you in the elevator – ow!" He voice cut off abruptly as McGee and Abby jointly headslapped him.

"Come on!" he demanded, glaring at them. "You know you went there, too!"

Tony glanced over at Jethro and Ziva, only to find two pairs of eyes fixed on him fiercely. "Yikes!" He drew back in mock fear. "She's not even a Gibbs yet and she's already got the stare."

"Next," Gibbs ordered.

"So, like how did this," Abby waved a hand back and forth indicating the two of them, "start?"

"Yeah," Tony added. "Did you just wake up one morning and say, 'Hey, let's break Rule 12 today and see what happens'?"

Jethro snorted out a breath and shook his head. Ziva grinned.

"I cornered him in his basement, but he was determined to be a gentleman," she admitted, eyes twinkling down at Jethro. "At first."

"For all of a few days," Gibbs divulged dryly, reaching up to squeeze Ziva's hand.

"Just like that?" McGee asked, still trying to make sense of the details.

"Well, it had been building for some time," Ziva explained. "Ever since he came back from Mexico."

Abby's eyes grew wide. "That long?"

"Mmm," Ziva confirmed. "But neither of us said anything … Rule 12, you know," she acknowledged with a look at Tony. "We became very good at avoidance."

"But the Hoffman case changed things?" Abby asked.

Ziva nodded. "It was a reminder that the next time I really could die. Suddenly I was finished with ignoring what this was between us."

"So was I, just didn't have the guts she did," Gibbs admitted in a rare moment of self disclosure.

"And two years later, here we are," Ziva finished.

"Are you going to tell Vance?" McGee asked.

"First thing Monday morning," Gibbs confirmed.

"Do you think he will force one of you onto a different team?" Ducky asked.

"He'd better not," Gibbs all but growled.

Ziva moved her arm from the back of his chair to his shoulders in an effort to gentle him. It worked, which was not lost on the others.

"The regulations discourage couples from being on the same team, but it is not mandatory that one or both be moved to other positions. If he brings it up, we simply plan to point out that nothing has interfered with our work over the past two years and we have no reason to believe that will change," she explained.

Everyone agreed that their argument made sense. The team was silent as they processed all they'd been told, though the quiet wasn't uncomfortable.

"So, Zee-vah," Tony asked, his tone of voice telegraphing that he was moving off the serious topics, "do you cook every day like you did tonight? 'Cause if you do, I might drop in around dinner time now and then … like on all the days that end in 'y'."

"Not every day, Tony," she chuckled lightly.

"Often enough," Jethro commented, looking at her with a half-smile of his own. "Lucky for me."

"How have you not gained, like, two hundred pounds?" Tony asked, only half joking.

Despite his earlier directive to his senior agent, Gibbs responded with, "Gee, DiNozzo, I guess we've just found a way to burn it off." He smirked at his underlying meaning, which earned him a headslap from Ziva - ! The team chortled in disbelief as Jethro just grinned up at her unrepentantly until she lifted her eyes heavenward and joined in the amusement with a shake of her head.

After things had calmed a bit, Ziva noticed Abby looking all around the room. "Is there something you are looking for, Abby?"

"You live here, too, right?"

Ziva nodded.

"Then how come it doesn't look like it?" Abby continued her question, clearly perplexed.

Ah.

"You're just not looking in the right places, Abs," Gibbs told her. Then he looked back up at Ziva. "You could show her all the pans you've added to the kitchen cupboards … or the room upstairs."

Ziva's eyes widened. She was so accustomed to their sitting room being just for the two of them, that she needed a moment to adjust to that idea. "You think …?" she asked softly.

He nodded encouragingly.

"What room upstairs?" Abby asked.

"Our sitting room," Ziva explained.

"Your 'sitting room'?" Tony guffawed. He stared at Gibbs. "_You_ have a sitting room. And I was worried about Ziva being completely domesticated!" He howled with laughter as the others grinned at Gibbs' discomfort.

"It's more like a TV room," Gibbs defended with a glare.

Abby looked at Ziva with hopeful eyes, practically quivering in anticipation. Ziva conceded and invited Abby to follow her. They went up the stairs and down the hall. Two doors were closed.

"I guess we can start leaving the doors open now," Ziva noted as she opened a door on the left.

Abby stood just inside the doorway, mouth open in surprise. "Wow," she said. "I can definitely see your touch in here."

There were gem-like colors everywhere, set off by rich browns and creams. Abby's gaze admired the vibrant rug and the soft, cushy sofa. Then her attention was caught by a group of framed photos hung attractively on one wall.

"What are these?" she asked, walking over for a closer look. Gibbs and Ziva were in every picture, in obviously different locations.

"Those are pictures from little trips we have taken, just weekends here and there," Ziva explained.

"You've been to all these places and you never said?" Abby was astonished. There had to be eight or ten pictures all together.

Abby then noticed a larger photo sitting on one of the end tables. This picture was of Ziva standing on a beach and dressed in a blue and white patterned sundress. She was grasping a basket of shells in one hand, and holding back the left side of her hair against a breeze with the other. Her smile was completely natural and lit up her whole face.

Abby picked it up for a closer look, then held it toward Ziva.

"There is something special about this one," she stated.

Ziva looked surprised. She took the picture, touching the glass gently, almost reverently, with her fingertips.

"How did you guess?" she asked softly.

"Well, it's different from the others," Abby began. "You're by yourself in it, for one; it's larger; and it's sitting on the table near the couch instead of hanging on the wall, like someone wanted it closer or it's significant somehow."

Ziva was impressed. "You are good, Abigail Sciuto."

Abby folded her arms with a satisfied, cocky grin.

Ziva was silent for a moment, a tiny smile playing about her lips as she remembered the day this photo was taken.

"Usually I take the pictures when we are traveling, and I always find someone to take at least one picture of the two of us together." She looked up. "Those are the ones on the wall.

"But this one …" she looked again at the photo she was holding, the smile creeping back onto her face and coloring her voice. "We were in Delaware, on the coast, toward the end of our first summer together. This beach was deserted except for us. I wanted to look for shells and Jethro was humoring me. He was holding the camera and he snapped this picture." Her voice lowered with emotion. "And then, he told me that he loved me. It was the first time he said that to me."

Ziva glanced up at Abby, a little embarrassed at sharing such a private moment. She didn't open up easily, and she and Jethro had been so secretive for so long … but how she'd yearned for the chance to just be open about it.

Tears brightened Abby's eyes as she was hit by the intimacy of the moment Ziva had described – and of the moment here and now in this room. Suddenly it all came together for her, including just how much Gibbs and Ziva meant to each other.

"Abby?" Ziva whispered, unsure of what the other woman was feeling.

"That's beautiful," Abby husked. "Really, really beautiful. It's like you two were supposed to find each other. And I can't believe I didn't see it."

Ziva closed her eyes for a brief moment in gratitude. "You have no idea how often I have wanted to talk to you about all of this," she admitted, blinking back tears of her own. To Abby's surprise, Ziva then slipped her arms around her friend in a heartfelt embrace. "It is good to have you back."

"I didn't know I was missing," Abby joked, hugging Ziva in return.

"But I did," Ziva whispered.

After they moved apart, Abby looked around again as she plopped onto the couch. This time she noticed the modern TV and – holy Caf-Pow! – was that _cable_?

"Zi, don't take this the wrong way," Abby advised with a less-than-auspicious beginning, "but this all seems so normal."

Ziva laughed. "We _are_ normal, Abby," she said as she sat on the sofa as well, tucking one leg underneath her.

"Yeah, in a 'Mr. and Mrs. Smith' kind of way," Abby pointed out, amused.

Ziva's brow furrowed lightly in confusion, then cleared. "Ah. You mean that movie, about the assassins." Abby nodded enthusiastically.

"_That_ was a very sexy movie, "Ziva commented. Then, with a secret smile, she continued. "Even Jethro thought so."

A light blush stained her cheeks as she remembered something. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it without saying a word. Her eyes flicked away.

"All right, David. Spill it. There's something juicy going on in your head and I want in on it."

At first, Ziva held out. Then she couldn't help herself.

"I will just say that we did not even make it to the bed before we…well, you know," she admitted, blushing even more.

"But, isn't the bedroom right over there?" Abby asked, pointing across the hall.

Ziva nodded, then giggled. She g_iggled - ? _It was hard to tell which of them was more surprised at that! Ziva quickly clamped a hand over her mouth.

"So … right here?" Abby looked at the couch as though trying to decide if she should bolt off it.

Ziva shook her head. Moving her hand enough to speak, she mumbled, "First the wall," tilting her head toward the hallway. "Then the floor." Then she fisted her hand against her mouth as if she couldn't believe she'd actually said that out loud.

Abby's eyes grew round as saucers at the mental pictures that inadvertently crashed through her brain. _Wow – go Gibbs!_

"But do not tell Jethro I told you that," Ziva all but hissed at Abby, pointing a finger for added emphasis, the merriment in her eyes giving lie to her tone. "He will kill me!"

Both women rolled with laughter at that point, and were still snickering when Jethro came up a few minutes later to ask if they wanted dessert, as the guys were ready to dig into Ziva's chocolate mousse. In fact, his mere presence seemed to set them off again, which made him wonder exactly what they'd been up here discussing. Then he decided that he probably didn't want to know.

An hour later, Ziva closed the front door after the team. Turning, she leaned back against it, catching her bottom lip in her teeth, her smile breaking through.

She pushed off the door and she launched herself at Jethro with a joyful sound. He caught and held her as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She pressed a quick hard kiss to his mouth.

"They are happy for us," she announced, stating the obvious. "And you were so worried."

"Well, somebody had to be," he pointed out with an exaggerated shrug.

"You realize you are stuck with me now." Eyes gleaming, she said, "If you try to get away, I will sic McGee on you."

He snorted. "I can take McGee," he said, swagger in his tone.

"And then there is Ducky, and Tony …" She gave him that narrow-eyed look she did so well. "And do not forget me."

"Well, now. That changes things." Sighing behind a little smile, he agreed in a resigned voice, "Okay, I'm stuck with you."

With a sexy glint in his eye, he brought his mouth within a breath of hers. "Guess I'd better find something to do with you."

Unexpectedly, he pulled back and considered her in mock seriousness. "How do you feel about doing dishes?"

"How do you feel about me doing you?" she countered wickedly.

Gibbs threw back his head with a deep, full-blown laugh and started toward the stairs with her still wrapped around him. "Like your idea better."

Grinning, her lips brushed over him everywhere she could reach as he carried her upstairs to their bed.

Just as they crossed the threshold into their room, an errant thought had Ziva abruptly raising her head. With a vaguely hopeful look at Jethro, she asked, "So, if I am the mom, does that mean I can put Tony in time out?"


	7. The Toothpick

_A/N: This comes with a huge HAPPY BIRTHDAY! shout and wave to my good friend kaelleigh_! _=) I'd love to hear what you think of the chapter and please wish kaelleigh a very happy day!_

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

The sun had not yet broken the horizon when Gibbs felt something tickling his face. His eyes and nose scrunched up and he jerked his head to the side – only to bump into something soft…hmmm…he rubbed his face against it…it felt like a very smooth cheek which seemed to be connected to the sexy voice he heard in his ear.

"Wake up, sleepyhead."

He would know that voice anywhere. He relaxed and turned into her, even as supple lips brushed his ear. A not-so-gentle nip on his earlobe followed, causing him to jerk slightly. He wrapped his arms around her, expecting to feel the light cotton of her pajamas. Instead, his arms encountered her running clothes and his brain slowly registered the fact that she was sitting beside his hip, draped across his chest, rather than laying beside him.

"Going out for a run?" he mumbled sleepily, without opening his eyes.

"Already back," Ziva answered, nuzzling his neck, the ends of her ponytail tickling his nose again.

His eyes flew open at her words, and his head whipped away from her toward his alarm clock, which was placed strategically where he could see it without his glasses. Normally he had the coffee made and was out of the shower by the time she got back from her morning run. He was relieved to see he hadn't overslept; in fact, it was right around the time his alarm was normally set to go off.

"I turned off the alarm so I could wake you myself," Ziva explained, trailing kisses along his jaw.

"Mmm. Feel free to do that more often," Jethro murmured. Then his brow furrowed lightly as he blinked sleep from his eyes and looked down at her in concern. "You're up early. You sleep okay?"

"I slept very okay," she reassured him, practically purring. "I was just awake and decided to start the day."

He was finally awake enough to realize that she didn't seem worried or upset – things that might have kept her from sleep. In fact, if the energy practically radiating off her in waves was any indication, she was…happy. Excited, even.

"What's got you so chipper this morning?" he asked, unleashing her ponytail to tunnel his fingers into her hair.

"It is Monday," she answered, as though that explained everything.

He gave her a look that suggested he was wondering what color the sky was in her world, because she sure as hell wasn't anchored in his.

"And that's a reason to be happy." His tone made his words more of a statement than a question.

"This Monday it is." She pulled back and looked at him with bright eyes. "We can ride to work together today."

His own patented half-smile appeared on his face in response to her words, spurred on by the fact that this is what had her too excited to sleep.

Wrapping a hand around the back of her neck, he pulled her toward his mouth. Just before his lips captured hers, he softly voiced, "Like the sound of that."

She grinned as he took her mouth. Then every thought left her head as she was pulled under the tide of their desire.

After he'd kissed her thoroughly, she snuggled into his neck again. "I brought you coffee," she informed him.

His eyes lit up at the sight of his USMC mug sitting near his alarm clock, the heavenly smell of the dark brew tugging at his senses. "Now that's service. If I weren't already engaged to the most incredible woman in the world, I'd ask you out," he teased.

"I could sweeten the deal with a refill," she offered, her teasing mood perfectly aligned with his. She so loved it when his lighthearted side came out to play.

"Nope, not even that could make me give up my girl," he answered, running his hands over her back.

"Wow. It must be love," Ziva observed with mock amazement.

"Oh, it is," he answered assuredly.

Her happy laugh simply enchanted him.

"I love you, too," she said, pressing another kiss to his mouth.

He searched her face for any buried tension. "You don't seem worried about talking to Vance this morning," Gibbs noted.

She shrugged. "I am not. Now that I am an American citizen and am no longer a probationary agent, there is little he can do to us, yes? The worst he can do is move me to a different team. And even if that happens, we can handle it."

The change in her from the woman who'd been so worried about their friends' reactions was remarkable. Clearing that hurdle and realizing she still had her family behind her had snapped her usual confidence back into place and put that beautiful sparkle back into her eyes.

"_We,_" he punctuated the word with a brief hard kiss to her lips, "can handle anything."

"True," she agreed. "Now, you handle your coffee while I handle my shower. We do not want to be late."

Ziva pulled away and headed to their bathroom. Over her shoulder she threw him a cheeky look. "I am in such a good mood, I will even let you drive." With that, she pushed the door partway closed and stepped toward the shower.

He chuckled out loud as he reached for his coffee. After drinking only half, he decided to see if she wanted company. As he headed to the shower, he reflected that she was right: this was already a good Monday.

x x x x x x x x

Gibbs and Ziva stepped into the still-deserted bullpen a short while later. Tony was not yet there to begin tormenting them with his elevator comments, but it was only a matter of time.

After they'd stowed their guns and badges in their desks and Ziva had dumped her backpack near her filing cabinet, they looked at one another.

"Ready?" he asked her. It was early, but Vance would be in his office.

"Ready," she confirmed resolutely. Despite her earlier words to Jethro, her heart rate kicked up a little now that the moment was upon them. However, she was determined to get this behind them so they could truly start the rest of their lives.

They headed for the stairs up to the second floor. Ziva was walking in front, her high ponytail swaying slightly as she moved up the steps.

"You are staring," she commented without looking at him.

Yes, he was. Today she was dressed in charcoal gray dress pants that fit smoothly and a slightly clinging soft black top with a V neck and three-quarter length sleeves. Nothing spectacular in and of themselves, but on her…he couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Just trying to figure out how you can look as hot in that outfit as you did in the shower," he admitted honestly.

"Oh, that is pretty good," she grinned, admiration in her voice.

"It's pretty true," he returned, with a rakish tilt of his head.

Her delighted laugh made him smile as they reached the top. Their eyes found each other's for a brief moment, then they turned toward the director's office. Ziva tucked her hands in her pockets, keeping her engagement ring out of sight for just a little longer.

They passed by Cynthia, who was just stowing her purse in her desk and turning on her computer. She started to halt the visitors, but gave up without a word when she saw the twosome included Gibbs.

Jethro threw her a half-smile. "Won't be long."

"Good morning, Cynthia," Ziva smiled at the secretary.

"Morning, Ziva," the other woman returned. Then she stared in shock as Gibbs opened Vance's door without knocking, but stood back to let Ziva walk in ahead of him. Out of the corner of her eye, Ziva caught the way Cynthia's mouth gaped. Hiding a grin, she stepped through the doorway.

Vance was seated behind his desk, one of the endless manilla folders opened in front of him. There were so many in his line of work that he often groused he should have bought stock in the company that supplied them. The morning news headlines were playing across the TV hanging on his wall. He looked up as his door opened, watching in silence as first Ziva, then Gibbs came into his office and shut the door.

"Hey, Leon," Gibbs said.

Vance muted the news program and pulled the ever-present toothpick from his mouth. "You need something, Agent Gibbs? Besides a long-overdue lesson in knocking on closed doors before you open them." The toothpick returned to his mouth.

Jethro smirked and shook his head. "Just wanted you to know something."

Vance looked at Gibbs, then at Ziva, then back at Gibbs.

"I'm listening."

Jethro looked him straight in the eye. Without fanfare, he stated, "Ziva and I are getting married."

For a couple of seconds, Vance went completely still. Then he slowly took the toothpick from his mouth again and pointed it at Gibbs.

"You wanna run that by me again?"

"Got a hearing problem I didn't know about, Leon?" Gibbs asked sarcastically. "I said, we're getting married."

Vance stared at Gibbs for what seemed like endless minutes, but Jethro didn't so much as blink. Leon turned his focus to Ziva. "You have anything to say about this?"

"I already said 'yes,'" she answered. Her head turned toward Jethro. "That was the most important thing to say, was it not?" she asked with mock innocence, her brows raised in question.

His head nodded once affirmatively. "I thought so," he agreed.

After flashing a quick grin at each other, they turned composed faces back to their director.

Vance stared at them for a while in silence. However, given that these two were among the least likely people on earth to squirm under his gaze, his attempted intimidation quickly lost its fun. He decided to drop the pretense. All of it.

"About damn time," Vance observed, then glanced back down at his folder, effectively dismissing them.

Gibbs and Ziva looked at each other in disbelief. _This wasn't news to him? _Gibbs looked back at Vance, who really was back to work – or doing a fine job of faking it.

"Wait a minute – you knew?" Gibbs confronted his boss.

Vance gave him a look that said he failed to understand why his people continued to underestimate him.

"I knew."

Ziva gave Gibbs a fleeting glance. She hid her surprise, but in reality she was amazed.

"Why didn't you say something?" Gibbs challenged.

Vance leveled a direct look at him. "Figured as long as it wasn't hurting anybody, there was nothing to say."

"How long have you known?" Ziva asked.

"Let's put it this way: if I'd wanted to put a stop to this, I'd have done it two years ago."

And the surprises just kept coming.

Vance looked at them, considering. "You know, most directors in my position would be concerned about a sexual harassment complaint. But that usually only happens in situations like yours where something goes south. And in this case I figure YOU'RE," he looked at Ziva, "more likely to dump him, and YOU," he looked at Gibbs, "are the least likely person I know to actually fill out the necessary paperwork."

Ziva and Gibbs looked at each other in wry amusement. Ziva wasn't so sure about being more likely to dump him, but the rest was true enough.

"Just don't make me regret this," Vance ordered with an unswerving look for both of them.

Then he unexpectedly dropped his director persona. With a small smile he added, "And congratulations. When's the big day?"

"Haven't picked a date yet, but soon," Gibbs advised.

Vance nodded and they started to leave.

"Agent David." Vance's voice stayed her. Ziva's eyes flew to Jethro's as he stopped, too, his hand on the doorknob. She turned back to Leon questioningly.

"Yes, Director?" she asked, somewhat cautiously.

"Does your father know?"

Ziva removed her hands from her pockets and reflexively stiffened into a soldier's stance, her face blank, giving nothing away of her internal reaction.

"I have not spoken to Director David in several months, so he has not heard this from me." She gave Vance a flat look. "As to whether he knows, I cannot imagine that he does not."

Gibbs looked at her in surprise. He hadn't given Eli a second thought, but clearly she had.

Vance bobbed his head once. He happened to agree. "Well, he won't hear it from me unless he asks. I won't lie to him."

"I would not expect you to, sir," Ziva answered, voice still devoid of emotion.

"And at the risk of overstepping my boundaries, are you sure about this?" he asked Ziva.

Her countenance changed. Ziva threw an amused glance at Jethro over her shoulder. "You are not the first person to ask me something along those lines, for some reason. Yes, I am sure."

Vance nodded, satisfied. "If you need any help with the plans, feel free to call my wife. She loves nothing better than a good wedding."

"Thank you, sir," Ziva replied, appreciating more than just the offer of Jackie's help.

Leon gave her a small smile and a nod. He turned the sound back on the TV and returned to his folder, signaling the end of the conversation.

When she was almost at the door, Ziva turned back.

"Oh, and Director? You are right that there will be no sexual harassment complaints. I have no intention of 'dumping' Gibbs, and if he tries it…" she narrowed her eyes a bit, "the only paperwork you will have to process is the life insurance payment for his widow." And with a quick wink, she sauntered out the door as Gibbs held it open for her.

Jethro just grinned from ear to ear. God, he loved that woman.

Cynthia noticed Gibbs' repeated chivalrous behavior with the door, but managed to control her surprise this time - until Ziva acknowledged her with a wave of her left hand, causing her engagement ring to sparkle in the light. Cynthia's mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. Ziva smiled, while Jethro smirked.

"Have a nice day, Cynthia," Ziva wished her as they continued on their way.

By unspoken agreement, they bypassed the stairs and headed for the elevator, wanting a minute alone. As they waited for the doors to open, Ziva suddenly snorted in quiet amusement. Jethro questioned her with his eyes just as the doors opened.

After they were inside with the doors closed, Ziva looked at him with merriment in her eyes. "I was just wondering if he will swallow that toothpick the day we tell him I will need maternity leave."

She expected him to laugh with her, but that's not the reaction she got.

Gibbs stilled, then pushed the stop button and turned to face her. His eyes darkened with emotion as an image of her pregnant with his child slammed into his brain.

"Jethro?" she asked faintly, unsure of what was going on in his head.

With one hand, he cupped her face gently; the other rested on her hip, thumb brushing over her belly. Looking into his eyes, it became clear to her that he wasn't laughing because he was so moved he could barely speak. The realization crossed her mind that they hadn't actually talked yet about having children except for that brief interchange in the park months ago.

He rested his forehead against hers. "You're sure?" he whispered huskily.

"Why do people keep asking me that?" Ziva asked somewhat exasperatedly. She pulled back far enough to look him full in the eyes. "And why is no one concerned as to whether or not you are certain about me?"

"Because everyone knows I'm getting the better end of this deal," he answered without a doubt in his mind.

She shook her head. "I disagree."

Her left hand came to rest on his right, pressing his hand more firmly against her midriff, while her other hand slid up to rest on the back of his neck. Despite the fact that they were technically at work, this moment felt too important to merely allow it to pass by. They would talk more about it, she was sure, but for now she kept it simple. "I am sure, Jethro - about marrying you and about having children with you…if you want that, too."

"Oh, I want," he assured her.

Slowly their lips curved into full-blown smiles that were thrilled, yet tinged with a bit of wonder. They laughed softly together, their joy bubbling over.

And then, for the first time in two years, Jethro gently crowded Ziva up against the side of the elevator and kissed her slowly and deeply, completely swamping her senses. She gave as good as she got, until he was just as lost in their connection as she was.

Let Tony tease them all he wanted. Right now, Gibbs was far too happy to give a damn.


	8. Fathers and Dads

Gibbs and Ziva pulled into their driveway Friday after work. They had taken turns driving to work all week, so it was Jethro at the wheel today. They were both laughing as Ziva related the tale of McGee getting back at Tony for nosing around Tim's desk again. The look on Tony's face when sirens and lights went off announcing a security breach had been priceless.

The couple was headed to Stillwater this weekend to share the news of their engagement with Jackson before he found out from someone else. They had a bag already packed and were just stopping by the house to change clothes and load the truck before heading out. They'd grab dinner on the way.

As they went up the steps to the front door, Ziva suddenly stilled. She pulled her gun with one hand and stopped Jethro with the other. Because he trusted her implicitly, he froze immediately. She cocked her head slightly, listening. Gibbs couldn't hear anything, but that didn't mean she didn't. Her eyes scanned back along their street, narrowing slightly at a black Mercedes SUV parked down the block.

She gestured silently toward the door with her head, and Jethro pulled his own gun. They had started locking their door some time ago, as Ziva was more comfortable that way. She tried the knob and found it unlocked. Whoever was inside wanted them to know they had company, but strove for some element of surprise by parking down the street. Her gut told her she knew who it was.

She opened the door slowly and they entered, guns still drawn. From their years of working together, she knew he preferred going in high, just as he knew she favored going in low. Rounding the corner into the living room, they spotted their unwelcome visitor immediately. Eli.

He had chosen the straight-backed arm chair, but had turned it so that he was facing the door. He sat with deceptively casual ease. There was not a weapon or backup in sight, though, of course, he had arrived with both.

Ziva and Gibbs stopped, their guns trained on her father. With an eyebrow cocked, Eli raised his hands almost mockingly, attempting to pass himself off as harmless. Jethro glanced toward the kitchen and nodded his head at the stairs, silently instructing Ziva to clear the rest of the house. She did so quickly, slightly surprised that Eli had placed his security detail outside. Either he did not see them as much of a threat or he did not expect this visit to take a turn he could not handle himself.

Ziva returned to the living room where Gibbs still stood with his gun pointed at his future father-in-law. Ziva holstered hers as she came to stand slightly in front of Jethro, careful not to hamper his gun hand, but sending a clear message that anyone coming at him would have to go through her first.

Eli was the first to break the silence. "Shalom, Ziva."

"Father," Ziva returned almost woodenly. A myriad of emotions were bouncing around inside her, but none of that showed on her face.

Grabbing for the upper hand in this match, she skipped the small talk. "What do you want?"

Her father stared at her for a moment, attempting to shame her into responding more appropriately to his presence. He might as well have been trying that trick on Gibbs for all the good it did him. The need to protect Jethro and their relationship had Ziva opting for an offensive position with her father for the first time in her life.

With a condescending yet disdainful quirk of his lips, Eli looked every inch a king sitting on his throne, despite his actual surroundings and his daughter's attempt to take control of the conversation. He answered, "I have come to take you home, of course."

"Over my dead body," Gibbs barked.

"That can certainly be arranged," Eli drawled.

Before either man could blink, Ziva's knife whooshed through the air and buried itself in one of the narrow wings of the upholstered chair, mere inches from her father's throat. Silence reigned in the room. Eli's gaze was unreadable as he looked at his daughter. A vague sense of unease nearly had him shifting in his chair. He did spare a second to appreciate that she had aimed for the chair and not for him, though he also knew her well enough to know that she had pulled her aim to the side at the last minute.

She slowly advanced on his chair, and pulled her weapon from it. Leaning down, she encroached into his personal space. The cold flat tone of her voice was at odds with the fire that burned in her eyes.

"If you ever threaten his life again, the only dead body will be yours. Are we clear, Director?"

Eli's expression gave nothing away as he stared at his daughter. He gave a barely perceptible nod and she stepped back, returning her knife to her belt. She took up her previous position near Jethro. Once she was safely back by his side, he lowered his gun, but kept it at the ready.

"If you are here to pull me back into Mossad, your efforts are in vain."

"You are more than Mossad, Ziva. You are my daughter."

"About time you remembered that," Gibbs ground out, his eyes shooting daggers at Eli.

"Israel is your home," Eli continued, ignoring Gibbs' outburst. "It is past time that you returned to your rightful place in service to your country and your government."

In the maelstrom of emotions swirling within her, Ziva latched onto gratitude that she'd finally come to a place in her life where she could stand up to her father. Years of stuffing her feelings and following his orders had brought her nothing but heartache and emptiness. Gibbs was the most important person in her life now and before Eli left, he would understand that.

"My home is with Jethro. I love him and would give my life to protect his. And though I will never understand why, he feels the same for me." She shook her head in slight amazement. "I can only thank God for that miracle, because I have done nothing to deserve it."

"You would turn your back on your family – on your _country_ – for this man?" Eli asked scornfully.

"_This man_ is the best thing that has ever been connected to me – and he IS my family." Ziva's voice was low, but clear and strong with no hesitation.

"Israel will always live in my heart," she continued, her voice thickening with tears. Pausing to take a deep breath, she straightened her spine even more and her voice gained strength. "But my life is here now. I am an American citizen and an NCIS agent. I report to Gibbs and to Director Vance. Jethro and I are getting married, which I presume is what has brought you here. If you have only come in your official capacity, you have wasted your time."

Eli watched as Jethro's left hand came up to settle at her waist, wanting her to feel his support and her father to know they were a unit. Her hand pressed his briefly in acknowledgment.

There was a visual stand-off for several minutes.

"Is there any other capacity left between us, Ziva?" Eli asked quietly, certainty that there was not ringing in his voice. He looked at her, but his eyes were unfathomable.

"I have a director in my life, but I still have room for a father," she pointed out softly, almost hesitantly. Over the years, she had caught occasional glimpses of the man who loved his children. Usually that part of him was hidden under his Mossad mantle, but the father in him had been revealed just often enough to keep her hope alive somewhere deep inside.

He looked away. "Even at my best, I was never very good at that." His gaze stared unseeingly out the window as though his mind was very far away. "And after your mother died…well. There was no hope for me, I am afraid."

The silence that followed spoke loudly.

Ziva gave no outward sign of the dagger she felt to her heart at his words. "Well, then it appears this is goodbye," she said in a voice devoid of emotion. Without turning her back on him, she moved to the front door and opened it. "Unless you are able to support us – to be happy for us – you are not welcome here."

He looked at her in silence, then inclined his head as he realized he had underestimated this situation, and quite possibly his daughter. Perhaps he simply hadn't wanted to believe this was real, but in the face of Ziva's steadfast resolve he was forced to concede. Eli pushed up from the chair and moved slowly to the door, not missing the fact that Jethro's eyes tracked his every movement. Just before he stepped through the doorway, Eli stopped. Without turning his head to look at Ziva, he opened his mouth as if to say something. But after a pregnant pause, he closed it again without a sound and walked out the door.

The Mercedes SUV picked him up at the curb. Ziva waited until the car drove out of sight, then she softly closed the door with extreme precision. After turning the lock, she pressed her forehead to the wood, closing her eyes.

"I would not blame you for running as fast as you can from this," she offered in a voice thick with emotion.

Jethro holstered his gun and moved toward her. "From Eli?" he asked in disbelief.

"From me," she stated in a voice that made his throat ache with emotion of his own. "Because of Eli."

Reaching her, he put his hands on her shoulders, turning her toward him. With one hand, he tilted her face up to his gaze. "First of all, I wouldn't run from you if someone held a gun to my head." His tone brooked no argument. "And second, I can handle Eli. And clearly so can you."

She burrowed into his arms, needing comfort. He pulled her in close, one hand smoothing her hair, as he tenderly held her to his chest. He tugged her ponytail loose, massaging her scalp soothingly. Slowly, he felt the tension begin to leave her body.

"Why, after all he has done, did part of me still hope that he would want to simply be my father?" she asked, closing her eyes against the self-disgust that she knew he would see.

"Because you're human," Jethro answered. "Tough, but still human."

Silent tears spilled down her cheeks, absorbed by his shirt. Her voice was so low, he could barely hear her. "I still miss my mother, but eventually it became a fact that she was gone and I could not have her back. In some ways it is harder with him because he is still alive. Do you think I will ever completely stop wanting a father?"

"You can have mine," he offered, not really joking.

Despite the pain in her heart, she laughed lightly through her tears, starting to come out of her mood. "I will take him." Her eyes shadowed. "If he will have me."

If Eli David had still been in the room, Gibbs would have put a bullet in him right then and there for bringing sadness back to her eyes and opening a crack in her self-assurance.

With a levity he did not feel, Jethro snorted lightly. "Are you kidding? He's half in love with you himself."

He leaned in and nuzzled her neck. "But you're mine, got that?" he growled playfully in her ear.

She smiled, more than a little grateful for this man. "Got it," she affirmed.

Resolutely, she took a breath, straightened her shoulders and put the incident with Eli out of her mind. Well, she got points for trying, anyway.

"Now, we need to get on the road, yes? Jackson is expecting us."

Jackson knew they both were coming, though he didn't know why. Ziva had wanted them to tell him in person.

"We don't have to go," Jethro said.

"Yes, we do," Ziva answered. "I am through with letting Eli David ruin important moments in my life."

He looked at her with admiration. "OK. Let's go," he agreed with a kiss to her forehead.

She held him to her for another moment, needing to check something one last time. "You are absolutely certain you wish to be married to Eli David's daughter?"

"I am absolutely certain I want to be married to you, no matter whose daughter you are."

She searched his gaze, but found nothing but truth there. Relief lit her features as she relaxed into a soft smile. "Good. Because I may not deserve you, but I do not want to give you up," she told him.

"Not even worth your effort to try. You're stuck with me," he informed her.

"There are worse things," she murmured as she stretched up to capture his lips in a kiss that healed her wounded spirit.

After they'd pulled apart slowly, lips clinging, Ziva headed toward the stairs to change; after all, those few hours of driving they had in front of them weren't going to take care of themselves. When he didn't immediately follow her, she looked back, her eyebrows raised in question. He sent her on upstairs ahead of him, saying he was going to check the doors and windows again before they left. He also had another agenda that he kept to himself.

Moving to the kitchen, he unlocked the sliding glass door to the back deck area and stepped outside. His first call was a brief one to Vance, alerting him to the fact that Eli had been here so someone could track his movements. Gibbs wanted to be informed when he'd left the country. Vance had just been given the information that Director David had apparently flown in that day on the down low on a Mossad private jet; he was as interested as Jethro in keeping track of the Israeli, friend or no.

Before going back into the house, Gibbs made a second call. He didn't think Jack would knowingly say something to upset Ziva, but he and his father had been at odds often enough in the past that Jethro was still on guard at times and he was taking no chances with Ziva after the scene that had just transpired. He wouldn't share the real reason for their visit; it was too important to her that they tell his father together and in person. However, he could alert Jackson to be careful with her, and he was going to.

After three rings, Jethro heard, "Hello?"

"Hey, Jack."

"Leroy! This is a surprise. I didn't expect to hear from you again until you and Ziva got here tonight. Everything all right? Are you still comin'?"

"Yeah, we're heading out soon. Listen, Jack…Ziva…she needs a little TLC this weekend, OK?"

Jackson paused, surprised by his son's words and the concern he could hear clearly beneath them. Hmmm…maybe there really was something to his hope that there was more to this visit than Leroy had let on.

"Sure, son. I've got a real soft spot for that girl. You didn't think I was going to be rough on her or anything, did you?" He could see his son's half-smile just as surely as if the man were standing in front of him.

"Nah…just looking out for her."

"All right. See you in about four hours?"

Jethro smirked again, eyes on his fiancée as she came looking for him, now dressed in yoga pants, a tank top and hoodie. "Uh-huh. Less if Ziva drives." She quirked a sassy eyebrow at him, then turned to grab some water bottles and a couple apples for the drive. Oh, and she'd better make coffee for Jethro while he changed. She preferred tea or water this time of day, but Jethro would want coffee for the trip.

"You forget, Leroy, I've seen the way you drive, too," his father's voice said into his ear.

Jethro grinned and said they'd see him soon.

"Drive safe now," Jackson ordered. With assurances they would, Gibbs hung up and put his phone away. He went back through the glass door, stopping to make sure it was locked solidly before moving to where Ziva was starting the coffee pot.

Sliding his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to her hair, he murmured, "Thanks for making coffee."

"You are welcome," she answered, placing the carafe on the burner so the brewing would start. She turned in his arms and linked her hands behind his neck. "You told Jackson we are leaving soon?"

"Mhm," he confirmed, dropping a kiss to her nose.

"Did you tell him my fa- Eli had been here?"

"Nope," he answered truthfully. "Would it matter if I had?"

She shook her head. "No. I just wanted to know." She gave him a direct look. "And what did Vance say?"

With a wry smile, he marveled at just how well this woman understood him. "He'll keep an eye on things and let us know when a certain jet has cleared American air space."

She nodded. They would both sleep more easily when that information came through.

"You go change. I left the bag on the bed in case you need to put anything else in there. I will take care of putting your coffee in a thermos." She shooed him off with a quick kiss and turned to finish her task. With a squeeze, he let her go and headed upstairs.

Soon they were on their way, Ziva at the wheel. He would drive later when darkness met with unfamiliar roads, but for now she needed the distraction of negotiating the heavy traffic as most of the city seemed intent on heading north of DC this weekend. Before too long, they picked up I-83 north of Baltimore, which would take them into Pennsylvania. As they drove, he answered her curious questions ("Why is Pennsylvania called a commonwealth and not a state?" "Why did Tony say it is the chocolate capital of the US?"). They both relaxed as he told her little facts about his home state, stuff he hadn't thought about in years. They traveled on as darkness fell, cocooned in their own little world as they sped down the highway.

_Back in Maryland…_

Vance was sitting in a park, the remnants of his kids' fast food meals scattered around him on the bench, watching said children play with wild abandon on the playground equipment. It wouldn't be long before they were too old for this kind of play and too cool to be seen out with their father. So for now, he'd enjoy it. Jackie was off on her monthly girls' night out with some friends, and he was on daddy duty. He pretended this was simply about him supporting his wife in having some time to herself, but in reality he wouldn't trade this regular night with his children for anything.

When his phone rang, he looked at it out of habit, though he only took certain calls on this night. However, this would be one of them. Keeping his eyes on his children, he pressed the box on the screen to answer and put the phone to his ear. "Shalom, Eli. I hope it's pleasure and not business that prompted this call."

"Shalom, Leon." Eli paused. "Perhaps it is a little of both. I imagine you have heard by now I am in your country. I wonder if we might meet?"

Hmmm. Vance couldn't quite place what was prompting Eli's request. He never mixed business with his kids, but…something in the voice coming over the phone didn't sound like all business.

"Well, I'm currently watching my kids run like wild things around a playground. You'd be welcome to help me warm this bench, if we can keep it short." There, that should set the boundary he needed, while still responding to this man who was his friend and ally, even if it was not always a comfortable relationship.

Eli agreed, and took directions to the park where he would find Vance. Before long, he was sitting beside him, watching the group of children playing as though they hadn't a care in the world. For a moment, he envied their freedom.

"So, what brings you to my world?" Vance asked, chewing on his toothpick and giving nothing away while he waited for an answer.

Somewhat surprisingly, the Israeli went right to the heart of the matter. "My sources advised me that my daughter is engaged to marry your Special Agent Gibbs. It seemed time to put an end to this nonsense, this new life she is pretending to live, and bring her back home."

"And how'd that work out for you?" Vance asked in a level tone.

"Not as I imagined, as I am sure you know," Eli acknowledged.

The two men sat in silence for a moment, watching the children instead of each other.

"Why did you call me, Eli?" Vance finally asked, breaking the silence.

"I am not completely sure," Eli admitted, somewhat self-derisively. "I intended to ask you to order her back to Mossad since she has informed me that you are her director, but I find that I am questioning that plan."

"She's an American citizen and a full NCIS agent, Eli; there's nothing pretend about that. And, for what it's worth, I think this relationship between her and Gibbs is the real deal, as well. Fact is, I couldn't order her back to Mossad even if I wanted to," and with a direct look at the other man, Vance added, "which I don't."

Friend or no, Eli David needed to understand that Leon Vance looked out for his agents – even if he was a bit underhanded about it at times.

Eli gave a single nod, acknowledging the other man's position.

"There's more on your mind," Leon observed.

Eli wasn't surprised that Leon could sense that; one of the things he'd always admired about the man was his shrewd ability to size people up. At first, Vance thought Eli wasn't going to answer, then he spoke, his expression brooding.

"Ziva…" he voice trailed off, then picked back up again. "She suggested that she has a director in her life, but that she still has room for me to be her father. I am not sure if I can be a different kind of parent than I have been…or if it would be good for either one of us for me to try."

Vance took a while to respond. When he did, it appeared he was off topic. "Once a month, my wife goes out with her friends and I stay with the kids. There's this whole ritual that goes along with it. First, she reminds me every day that week that this will be the night, as though I'd forget about it if she didn't. My kids come up with ideas of what we can make for dinner, knowing full well as soon as she leaves they'll start badgering me for fast food and I'll cave in. I act like this is all about having my wife's back since God knows she spends most of her time having mine and the kids'. And afterward, Jackie pretends not to notice the kid's meal toys and the ice cream containers in the trash.

"What no one says out loud is that this is always the highlight of my month, and I'd give my right arm and more to protect it. It's like they know if we say it out loud and then the unspeakable happens, I don't know how I'd live with it."

He looked over at his friend. "Having kids makes you vulnerable and tests you in ways you never expected. They don't tell you that in the childbirth classes." Sticking the toothpick back in his mouth, his eyes found his children again, making sure all was well there.

There was silence as Eli thought over Vance's words. He had honestly never considered that fear of losing his children had played a part in keeping them at arm's length, forcing them into certain boxes in his mind. He had always been so focused on his work…but if he were honest, he had become even more guarded after the deaths of his wife and his youngest daughter, Tali. _By turning Ziva and Ari into warriors – the BEST warriors – did I attempt to know their destiny, dangerous though it may be? As though sacrificing a child in service to a higher cause would somehow be less painful than if the worst were to happen and it was completely outside my control - ?_

Vance's voice pulled him from his reverie. "They also don't tell you that children are remarkably resilient and forgiving, which can make up for a whole host of things we might have done differently."

"Ziva thinks she is just another Mossad operative to me. That is not true. But I do not deny that things were less complicated when she simply followed orders and we were united in a common purpose."

"Mhm. I know that's right," Leon commiserated.

Thinking back over the scene at Gibbs' house, Eli had to smile. "But, I must admit, she has become quite a woman, my daughter," Eli stated, a finger raised in the air for emphasis, his pride unmistakable.

"That she has. So think about this: clearly you've done something right in the father department; who's to say you can't do more?"

Somewhere deep inside Eli David, something shifted. _Was it possible - ?_ He shook his head in denial, even as a tiny spark breathed to life somewhere…

Just then a high-pitched shriek was heard, followed by, "Daddy, daddy! Save me!" With quick reflexes, Leon caught a running blur that hurled himself into his father's arms, completely confident the man would catch him.

"Whoa! What's going on here?" Vance asked, looking at his son, who was looking fearfully over his own shoulder for his tormentor. A leggy young girl who looked to be a couple years older than her brother came running up.

"Dad! Make him stop! He's embarrassing me – again!" The girl's deep brown eyes burned with an intensity of emotion that reminded Eli of Ziva.

Leon looked at his son, one eyebrow raised in silent question. The boy squirmed, then found his bravado. And in the age-old tradition of throwing your sister under the bus to distract your parent from your own culpability, the boy responded, "She started it! She wouldn't push me on the swing because she was talking to those boys. Look," he pointed, "They're old!"

Leon looked over at the group his son was pointing out. It was indeed comprised mostly of boys, who were undeniably older than his daughter. This time she was favored with the silent questioning eyebrow.

She had the grace to blush a little, then wrapped herself indignation. "I was just talking, Daddy. You know Mama always says to be polite. But he was being rude – not to mention obnoxious!"

Hiding a smile at the antics of his children, Leon said, "Hmmm…maybe we should break this party up and head home."

"But what about ice cream?" his son asked, his lower lip starting to tremble.

"Can't take rude, obnoxious, brother-chasing kids to the ice cream shop. Who knows what might happen?"

"But, Dad – " That lip was trembling in earnest now.

In a quick one hundred eighty degree move, Delilah wrapped an arm around her brother's shoulders in a show of solidarity. "We'll behave, Dad. We promise. No more fighting, right, Jared?" That girl was as shrewd as her father at sizing up a situation, Eli noted with interest.

"Right. Please, Daddy?" Jared pleaded.

Leon pretended to think it over, giving them both a stare that had felled lesser adults.

Then with a small smile, he caved. "All right."

Leon stood and Eli stood, as well.

"Who are you?" the young boy asked Eli, noticing that his father had company.

"Kids, this is a friend of mine, Director Eli David," Leon responded. "Eli, meet my children, Delilah and Jared."

"David? That's Ziva's name, too," the girl observed perceptively.

"Yes, it is," Eli smiled at her. "She is my daughter."

"I like Ziva," the boy advised him. "She plays with us at Dad's work picnic every summer. She can do a lot of cool stuff. And she's pretty, too." Then he hid his face in his father's side as though worried he'd said too much.

"You are correct – on both counts," Eli agreed, feeling a surge of pleasure that surprised him a little.

"Would you like to come with us for ice cream?" the daughter asked, finding those good manners again that her mother preached about incessantly. She grinned at her father. "Dad's buying."

Both men smiled. "Thank you, but I have a plane to catch. Perhaps next time," Eli said, surprised to find that he meant it.

As the kids walked over to the trashcan to deposit the bags from their dinner, Eli held out his hand to Leon. "Thank you for your time, my friend, and the talk."

Vance shook the hand that was offered. "Anytime. It's not too late, Eli. And it's worth it. SHE'S worth it."

Eli gave a single nod, then walked to his car as Vance rounded up his kids and headed to his, all three of them arguing good-naturedly about whose turn it was to choose the ice cream shop. Watching the family drive off, it occurred to Eli David that he had never herded his family into a car for the simple pleasure of going for ice cream. Not once. His situation with Ziva seemed bleak. Just because she was worth it didn't mean he could change.

_Later, in Stillwater…_

Gibbs parked in front of his father's house a little after nine. Given the way they both drove, they had indeed made good time once they'd cleared the rush-hour traffic near home. When Ziva did not make an immediate move to get out of the car, Jethro looked over at her sitting somewhat pensively in the passenger seat.

"You OK?" he asked her.

She nodded. "I was just thinking that we still have not decided how we are going to tell him."

"We'll just tell him," Gibbs said matter-of-factly.

"Like you did Vance?" She rolled her eyes. "Not one of your smoother moments."

"Worked didn't it?" he pointed out with a smirk. "Come on."

Jethro took their overnight bag, while Ziva grabbed her backpack. As they got to the front steps, the door opened and Jackson welcomed them.

"Hello, hello. Come on in." Holding the door wide, he ushered them in, Ziva first. He hugged her hello, then turned to wrap his son in a brief hug, as well. They put their bags down out of the way and followed the older man to the kitchen, the heart of the house. "I was just pouring some coffee, but maybe you'd rather have something else."

"Coffee's fine, Dad," Jethro said.

Ziva looked at him. "You have had enough coffee today to float a battleship."

Jethro grinned, and accepted a mug from his father. "Your point?"

"Do not complain to me when you cannot sleep and I am lying there sleeping like a baby."

Jethro sat at the table and raised his mug to his mouth to hide his grin at her words, which could be taken to mean she'd be lying there next to him. Suddenly, the intimacy of her words occurred to her; she blushed lightly and looked away. Jackson just watched them, his eyes unreadable. But inside he was doing a mental fist pump and shouting_ Yes!_

Ziva cleared her throat and said she would just have water. She offered to get it herself, but Jackson would have none of that. He directed her to sit next to Jethro and sat her glass in front of her. He joined them at the table with his own cup of coffee, making small talk about their drive.

Ziva took a drink, then wrapped her hands around the water glass. From his position across from her, Jackson had a bird's-eye view of her engagement ring. He reached out and took the fingers of her left hand in a gentle grip, tugging her hand across the table for a closer look. He pulled his glasses from his shirt pocket, slipped them on and looked approvingly at the ring.

Then, looking over his lenses, he begged Ziva, "Please tell me my son was smart enough to be the one to give this pretty ring to you."

Ziva couldn't hide her startled expression, though it quickly gave way to delight. Her gaze flew to Jethro, who just sat there with his patented half-smile on his lips. With a light laugh she said to her fiancé, "And I was worried about how we would tell him."

She looked back at her future father-in-law with a beautiful smile and answered, "As a matter of fact, he was." She squeezed his hand in gratitude.

"Now that's the best news I've heard in a mighty long time. C'mere." He stood and tugged at the hand he still held until she was standing, as well. He pulled her in for a warm hug and she squeezed him back, cherishing the feeling of being welcomed into his family. With one arm still around Ziva's shoulders, he reached out and clapped his son on the shoulder with the other. "Congratulations, son."

"Thanks, Dad," Jethro smiled, conveying the depth of his gratitude with his eyes.

After Jackson and Ziva had taken their seats again, Jackson asked, "So, how did all this come about?"

They gave him a highly edited version of their story; he was just as shocked as the team to learn they'd been together for two years. They talked for a long while, the conversation coming easily. At one point Jethro asked his dad what he would have done if the ring had been from someone else.

"Why, point out that anyone who'd let their fiancée take a trip with you was too careless to deserve her," Jackson pointed out firmly. "Then I'd have done my darndest to sweep her off her feet." At his smirk that was so like his son's, Ziva laughed with pleasure.

"If Jethro had not beaten you to it, I might have let you," she grinned.

As Jackson asked a few more questions to fill in the story of the last couple of years, the day started to catch up with Ziva. After she'd smothered her second yawn, Jethro suggested it was time for bed; everyone agreed.

Heading back to their bags, Ziva slung her backpack onto one shoulder and waited for Jethro to lead the way. Jackson leaned on his cane there in the front hallway near the stairs and said to Jethro, "Your old room is ready for the two of you."

Ziva glanced at him in surprise, then looked at Jethro. Her eyes asked _You told him?_ He shook his head, a little surprised himself.

"How did you know?" Ziva asked Jackson.

The old man shrugged and shook his head. "Didn't. But after Leroy called earlier in the week and said the two of you were coming, well…a man can dream, can't he?"

And in that moment, Ziva's heart completely melted for another blue-eyed Gibbs.

Dropping her backpack to the floor, she slowly walked over to him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she laid her head on his shoulder.

"So that is where Jethro gets it," she observed softly.

"Gets what?" Jackson asked, his arms automatically coming to rest around her.

"The gift for saying the perfect thing to me exactly when I need to hear it," she told him.

"Aw, honey, I don't know about that…unless his mother managed to rub off on us," he demurred. "Either that, or you bring out the best in both of us."

Her beaming smile summoned an answering one from him. And when she reached up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, he fell head over heels for this daughter of his heart.

"Goodnight, Jackson," Ziva said.

"G'night," he answered, watching her move back toward the stairs.

"Second room on the right," Jethro directed her so she could go on up. "Bathroom is first door on the left."

Before following Ziva up the stairs, Jethro turned to Jackson. Wrapping the old man in a hug, he said in a low voice, "Thanks, Dad."

"No need to thank me, son," he said as they moved apart. "That's one special little lady you've got there."

"I know," Jethro smiled. "Want me to lock up?"

"Nah, I got it. You go on up. I'll see you in the morning."

With a murmured goodnight, Jethro headed up to join the woman who did indeed bring out the best in this father and son.

X X X X X X X X X X

_A/N: This one's for my Dad, who thankfully was a lot more like Jackson than Eli...and I still miss him. Thanks for reading; hope you enjoyed it!_ =)


	9. Still Waters, Part 1

_A/N: I must begin with an apology for the delay in updating this; that was never my intention. The good news is that this next section is so long that it will be broken into three updates that are __already written. After we are finished visiting Stillwater, there will be three more chapters to this story - unless one of those is determined to be long enough to require more than one chapter, as well._

_This chapter and the next are dedicated to my fellow football fans Cherokee Jedi and abstractartist; isn't it fun to picture Ziva enjoying football as much as we do? :D (For my international followers, all references are to American football, as I call soccer ... um, soccer. ^_^ )_

_To my dismay, I have no rights to Ziva, Gibbs or Jackson, but the original characters are all mine. Happy reading!_

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

The next morning Jethro jogged downstairs still grinning over his morning exchange with Ziva. After he'd nuzzled her awake, she'd stretched and mentioned a shower. When he'd suggested he could join her, she'd been positively horrified at the thought of showering together with his father nearby.

"_He put us in the same bedroom; I'd say he guesses we've seen each other naked," Gibbs pointed out._

"_Guessing and knowing are two different things," Ziva said firmly. "Besides, how would you feel if it were Jackson in there with some woman?"_

_Oh._

_Still, he'd rallied for one last try. "You're not just some woman," Gibbs told her, which hadn't gotten him into the shower with her, but had earned him an enthusiastic good morning kiss – and a rain check. _

Jethro went into the kitchen following the scent of coffee. His father was sitting at the table with the newspaper and a mug.

"'Morning, son," Jackson offered.

"'Morning," the younger Gibbs returned, even sparing a small smile.

"You smile in the mornings now?" Jackson asked with some disbelief, peering over the top of his glasses.

"What's not to smile about?" Jethro responded as though the event were nothing out of the ordinary. He poured himself a cup of the brew that was like his life's blood.

"You never used to feel that way," Jackson observed.

"Things change," Jethro offered his own observation.

"Sometimes change is good," Jackson said quietly.

Jethro started to deflect out of habit, then admitted with a half-smile and a single nod, "Sometimes it is."

Jethro turned and looked out the window into the back yard.

"Fence looks like it needs a little work," he said, then took another sip of coffee. "I'll take care of that for you today."

"You don't have to do that," Jackson protested. "I'll get to it one of these days."

"I know I don't have to," Jethro said, turning back toward his father. "I want to."

There was silence as the two men looked at each other. Neither gaze was heated…just taking each other's measure.

"All right," Jackson acquiesced. "Truth is I wouldn't mind the help."

Jethro gave the older man a hint of a satisfied smile, then raised his mug to his lips again.

"Where's Ziva?" Jackson asked. "She strikes me as an early riser."

"She is," Jethro confirmed. "Takin' a shower."

"Well, I'd better get breakfast going then," Jackson decided, getting up from the table.

"You don't have to do that, Jack," Jethro denied. "She usually has coffee and a protein bar and I have coffee and…" He paused. "...more coffee," he smirked into his mug.

"Your mother always said it was the most important meal of the day," Jackson reminded him.

Jethro didn't speak, but there was a softness to his face as he remembered.

Jackson began hustling around the kitchen, getting eggs, fresh tomatoes and grapefruit from the refrigerator and pulling the bread from the bread box for toast.

Jethro cocked an eye at the grapefruit.

"What?" Jackson asked somewhat defensively. "Doc says I should eat more fruit."

"Fruit's good," Jethro acknowledged. "I'll check on Ziva."

The bathroom door was open, so she'd clearly finished in there. Opening the door to the room they were sharing, he caught Ziva in the act of pulling on her shirt.

She whirled around and exclaimed, "Jethro! Perhaps you should have knocked first."

His eyebrows nearly reached his hairline as he shut the door behind him. He gave her a look as he crossed the room to loop his arms about her waist, clasping his hands at the small of her back.

"There's not much I wouldn't do for you," he advised her, "but I'm not gonna start knocking before entering our bedroom."

She had the grace to blush a little as she rested her hands on his chest and stared at her fingers as they plucked at his shirt.

"You do not have to." Still avoiding his eyes, she continued, "It is just that I have not had much practice at this."

"At sharing a room with me?" he joked. "I'd say you've had a lot of practice at that – lucky me."

She gave him a mock slap on the chest, even as she smiled – exactly as he'd intended.

"I have not had much practice at visiting parents," she clarified softly, laying her cheek against his shoulder. "I do not wish to do anything … wrong."

He pulled her in closer and rested his chin on the top of her head. These vulnerable parts of her that snuck up now and then never ceased to amaze him, and made him even more determined to protect her.

"You're not going do anything wrong," he attempted to reassure her. "Just be yourself."

"I am a little worried that my 'self' will not fit in very well around Stillwater," she admitted.

He lifted her face to his with a finger under her chin. "You fit with me," he told her, looking into those big brown eyes, "and that's all that matters."

A teasing glint came back into his gaze. "Hell, most of the men and more than a few of the women are going to be wishing they were me."

She laughed, her anxiety easing a little in the face of his humor and his certainty.

"And your second biggest fan is downstairs making breakfast right now, so we'd better get down there," he added, ducking his head to kiss her, leaving no doubt as to the identity of her number one fan.

When he would have kept it short, she pulled him back in more tightly, slipping her tongue into his mouth to dance alongside his. With a low noise in the back of his throat, he gladly allowed her to deepen the kiss.

Slowly, they pulled apart. With a little smile, she released him and led the way downstairs.

Walking into the kitchen, she said, "Good morning, Jackson," pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Something smells very good, but you should not have gone to any trouble."

"No trouble at all," he assured her, beaming. "Grab yourself a cup of coffee and I'll have this dished up in no time."

"What can I do to help?" she asked as she filled a mug with the fragrant brew.

"You can sit right there," he gestured at the table. "You're family, but you're still my guest this weekend. Leroy, you could make the toast; didn't want to put that in until you two were down here."

Jethro obliged, making short work of toasting a few pieces of bread. Soon, the three were eating breakfast together, chatting lightly.

"So, you two have any plans for today?" Jackson asked.

Ziva looked at Jethro questioningly.

"Thought I'd work on the fence out back," he informed her.

"I would like to see more of Stillwater this weekend," she said, "but other than that, I am open to suggestions."

"I was hoping you'd let me take you out to dinner tonight," Jackson said.

"We can go out to dinner if you like, but you do not have to treat us," Ziva responded.

"I want to. It's not every day that a man gets to celebrate the fact that he's gaining a daughter." He smiled just for Ziva, who had to blink back sudden happy tears as she squeezed his hand in gratitude.

"The Hawthornes – you remember them, don't you, Leroy?" Jackson asked. "They turned an old house here in town into a real nice restaurant a while back; I was thinking we could go there."

"Sure, Dad," Gibbs agreed.

"Um, I did not bring anything to wear to a nice restaurant, I am afraid," Ziva admitted, looking a little worried.

"I'm sure whatever you have with you will be fine, honey," Jackson tried to put her at ease.

Ziva threw a pleading look in Jethro's direction. Her worry about making a poor impression rang in his ears.

He gave her a half-smile. "We can go find you something."

As distasteful as shopping was to Gibbs, the pleasure on her face more than made up for it.

"There's a new dress shop just outside of town; Helen Clayson opened it a few months ago," Jackson offered.

"She finally retired from being the high school principal?" Jethro asked

"Yep – couple of years ago. Then her husband passed and she decided she was bored with nothin' to do, so she opened this shop," Jackson explained. "I've heard some of the ladies say it's nice."

"May need some supplies for the fence," Jethro said. "We could get those, find you a dress and have you back here in time for the game."

Ziva's smile gleamed.

"Game? What game?" Jackson asked, surprised.

"Navy is playing Penn State today, yes?" Ziva responded. "Jethro says you are a Penn State fan, so I was hoping we could watch the game."

"You like football?" Jackson asked, a little incredulously.

Ziva nodded enthusiastically. "It is like a little war every time they snap the ball," she explained, waving her hands animatedly. Jethro grinned at her description as he finished up his coffee.

"And who are you going to be rooting for?" Jackson eyed her suspiciously.

"Why, Navy, of course," Ziva advised him, as if there were any other choice.

Jackson snorted. "Navy! Why don't you pick a real team?"

"They _are_ a real team," Ziva defended firmly. "And you would do well not to underestimate them. They have spoiled more than one team's winning streak."

"Humpf," Jackson huffed. Just because she was right didn't mean he had to say it out loud.

"Besides, it is not as though Penn State is doing all that well this year," Ziva needled him.

"We'll see who the better team is soon enough," Jackson's eyes flashed with determination. "Maybe we should have something riding on this."

Ziva threw a confused look at Jethro, brows furrowed.

"He thinks you should bet something," her fiancé clarified.

Ziva's eyes cleared, then narrowed as she looked back at Jackson. "Hmmm…yes, perhaps we should. But what will we bet?"

"I never bet money," Jackson said, "so it'll have to be something else."

"Loser buys dinner tonight?" Ziva suggested.

"Nope, dinner's on me either way," Jackson declared, his own eyes crinkled in consideration. "Loser fixes breakfast in the morning - ?"

"Deal," Ziva agreed and they shook on it, a pair of brown and one pair of blue eyes sparkling with excitement.

Jethro watched them with a wry look on his face and shook his head.

"What's that look for, son?" Jackson asked.

"You've never watched football with Ziva," Jethro pointed out.

"Yeah – so?" Jackson shrugged.

"She gets a little … excited," Jethro revealed with a grin at Ziva, who started to look indignant, then laughed.

"He is right," she admitted.

"Well, that'll just make it all the more interesting," Jackson said, satisfaction ringing in his voice. "You like any other teams, Ziva? Any _real_ teams?"

"I like UCLA," she advised him, winking at Jethro.

Jackson looked at her like she'd grown two heads.

"I can understand you rooting for Navy since you work for them," he said, "but why in tarnation do you like UCLA? That's clear on the other side of the country."

Ziva's grin became a little mischievous. "Tell him, Jethro," she urged, her eyes sparkling.

He gave her a look that said _not in this lifetime_. To Jackson's amazement, a blush actually started up his son's throat.

She got up and stood behind the younger Gibbs, looping her arms around his neck. Leaning down, she pressed her cheek to his temple and urged, "Go ahead – tell him."

"Why?" Jackson demanded of his son when Jethro still didn't speak.

"She says their uniforms remind her of my eyes," Jethro all but mumbled into his empty coffee mug, desperately looking for the final dregs as a distraction.

Ziva grinned even more broadly and rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek.

Jackson looked at her in disbelief.

"True," she confirmed.

It was now Jackson's turn to mumble into his own coffee mug. The words "stupid" and "reason" floated on the air loud enough to be heard.

Ziva didn't care; she just chuckled and hugged Jethro a little harder. He squeezed her arm, smiling up at her indulgently.

"Let me take a look at the fence, then we can get going," Jethro suggested to Ziva.

With a last squeeze, Ziva let go of him. "I will clean up the breakfast dishes while you do that," she said.

"I'll do the dishes," Jackson protested.

"You cooked, so I will clean up," Ziva disagreed.

"Maybe I'll let you help," Jackson acquiesced, secretly glad to have her company.

As they moved around the kitchen, Jackson asked after each person on the team, and Ziva filled him in on how everyone was doing. After loading the final dishes into the dishwasher, Jackson caught Ziva staring out the window at Jethro in the yard, a small smile on her face.

"You've been good for him," Jackson observed.

"He has been better for me," she returned, turning her smile on him.

Ziva poured them both another cup of coffee and they sat at the table. It was Jackson's turn to look toward the back yard where his son was still testing sections of the fence and taking measurements for the replacement wood he needed.

"I wasn't always the father Leroy needed," Jackson said softly, his eyes looking into the past, "but I always wanted to be."

Ziva gently put down her mug and laid a hand over Jackson's on the table.

"It is not an easy lesson to learn that one's parents are not perfect," Ziva reflected, "but I believe the most important thing is for children to know their parents love them exactly as they are and will be there for them as often as possible. You have done that for Jethro."

He laid his other hand over hers with a squeeze in appreciation of her words.

Her eyes twinkled. "And perhaps you two are too much alike not to bump heads once in a while, hmmm?"

"You may be right about that," Jackson smiled ruefully, then he grew more reflective. "Leroy was one hell of a father."

"I am sure he was," Ziva agreed softly. After a pause she added, "We hope he will have the chance to be one again."

Jackson's eyes lit up. "Now that's the second best news I've heard this weekend," he declared, grasping her hand more tightly.

Ziva smiled gratefully, then her eyes became more serious. "In the eyes of most people, your grandchildren will be Jewish."

"Is that supposed to bother me?" Jackson asked, puzzled.

"It might bother some people," Ziva shrugged, aiming for nonchalance and almost succeeding.

"I can't promise you that no one in this small town will ever say something hurtful, but I can promise you it won't be me." He squeezed her hand. "And as for those grandchildren, I'll just be glad to have them."

He grinned mischievously. "How soon can you start?"

Ziva laughed, then leaned in close to him. "I thought we would have the wedding first," she confided with a sparkle in her eye.

"Well, if you must," he grumbled good-naturedly with a twinkle of his own.

Ziva pressed her fingers more tightly against the old man's briefly, then walked to the sink with her empty mug. Standing with her back to Jackson, she spoke.

"Speaking of the wedding," she began, softly clearing her throat, "it appears I am in need of someone to walk me down the aisle."

Keeping her vulnerability all but hidden, she asked him, "Would you be interested in the job?"

Jackson's eyes teared up and he stood up from his chair. She turned and looked at him then, and he held out his arms. As she stepped into them, he husked, "I'd be honored."

As a tear rolled down each cheek, Ziva gave a happy laugh and squeezed him tightly, resting her head on his chest.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Jackson asked conspiratorially, resting his cheek on her hair.

"If you wish," Ziva allowed, not moving.

"I love that Abby, but you've always been my favorite," Jackson admitted with a gleam in his eye. "But maybe we shouldn't tell her."

Ziva chuckled. "It will be our little secret," she agreed as Jethro walked in the back door.

"Not keeping secrets from me, are you?" he asked, one brow raised in question, even as his eyes roamed over his fiancée, not missing the evidence of her tears.

Ziva and Jackson pulled apart with a smile and Ziva looked up at him questioningly. "All right; I guess you can tell him," he granted. "I'm gonna see if anyone is answering the phone yet at the restaurant so I can make a reservation." He left the room.

Jethro walked over to Ziva, brushing a thumb over her cheeks. "You OK?" he asked, concerned.

Ziva's smile lit up her whole face. "I am better than OK," she confirmed.

Moving his hands to her hips, Jethro lifted her to the counter and stepped into her. She wrapped her legs around him and looped her arms around his neck.

"So what's the secret?" he asked, nuzzling her throat.

"Promise you will not tell?" she asked playfully, stretching her neck to encourage him to continue.

"Promise," he murmured against her skin.

"I am your father's favorite, though he loves Abby, too." She couldn't help but feel a small bubble of happiness rise inside her, no offense to Abby.

She felt him grin against her before he pulled back to look in her slightly bemused eyes.

"He's got better taste than I thought," Jethro teased.

She gave him a look that said he shouldn't say such things, then laid her head on his shoulder.

"And he is ready for grandchildren, but I suggested we have the wedding first," she continued, her smile evident in her voice.

He smiled into her hair. "We haven't talked about a date yet; any thoughts on that?"

"Soon," Ziva said.

"Works for me," he agreed, running a hand over her back. "You want a big wedding?"

"No," Ziva said decisively. She raised her head and looked at him. "Unless you do - ?"

"Hell n–" He cleared his throat and amended his first response. "Nope. But I want you to have exactly what you want."

"What I want is to be married to you," Ziva said in a clear voice. "The details are less important."

He bent his head to kiss her, silently communicating that he couldn't agree more.

When they came up for air, Ziva burrowed back into his chest. "I asked your father to walk me down the aisle," she said in a voice almost too quiet to hear. "Do you mind?" she asked, tensing a little.

"Is that what you want?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Then I don't mind," he assured her, feeling her relax again in his arms.

"Maybe we could talk more about the wedding on the drive home tomorrow?" Ziva suggested.

"Sounds good," he agreed, giving her a squeeze. "You ready to go shopping?"

"I am," she confirmed. "Let me get my purse. You will tell Jackson we are leaving?"

He nodded and lifted her down from the counter. Within minutes, they were on their way.

Jethro quickly found what he needed at the home improvement store that had gone up at the edge of Stillwater a few years ago, though it was crowded and the check-out line was long. When they eventually got to the front, a former classmate of Jethro's rang them up. He was pleasantly surprised to see Gibbs and genuinely glad to meet Ziva. Jethro suggested she bring the truck up to the loading area while he paid, and she took the keys and headed out to the parking lot.

As she neared the truck, she heard strain in a woman's voice as she said, "Bobby Lee, I said please get out of my way."

Ziva looked for the source and noticed a woman a few spaces down trying to get to her SUV. She was juggling a bag and holding the hand of a young girl while trying to evade a tall, muscular man who was blocking her path. Ziva watched for a moment, taking note that no other help seemed near.

The sound of a bag tearing reached Ziva's ears and the woman's voice said, "Now look what you've made me do." There was a clatter as several items fell to the pavement and began rolling. The worry in the woman's voice had increased.

That did it. Ziva walked toward them, picking up a couple of things as she got closer.

"It appears you could use some help," she called out with a small smile as soon as she was within a few steps.

Three pairs of eyes turned toward her voice; one set was relieved, while one was clearly annoyed.

"She's got all the help she needs," the man said to Ziva rudely, straightening to his full height.

Ziva gave him a direct look, her body tensing into readiness. "Not from where I am standing."

"Listen," he snarled, "this is none of your business, so you can just go on back to wherever you came from."

"Actually, I would appreciate the help," the woman spoke up, a firm arm around her daughter's shoulders as she gave Ziva a grateful look. Keeping the focus ostensibly on the dropped items, she continued, "We'd like to get these things picked up as quickly as possible, so we can get them back to my husband." She gave Ziva a tight smile. "He's in the middle of a plumbing job that isn't going very well."

"Ah, then you do not want to keep him waiting any longer, do you?" she smiled at the woman and the girl and joined them as they bent to gather their things, though she remained watchful of the man called Bobby Lee and adroitly put herself between him and the woman. Working together, they had the items gathered quickly. The man tried crowding Ziva's space, but she just stood and held her ground. "Go ahead and help your daughter into the car," she suggested to the woman in a light tone without taking her eyes off the man. "I can take care of everything else." None of the adults missed her double meaning.

As his intended target was getting the little girl fastened into her booster seat, Bobby Lee noticed they were starting to gather some distant attention, including that of a blue-eyed former Marine who had come looking to see what was taking Ziva so long.

"Next time you can mind your own business," he bit out at Ziva, his look suggesting this wasn't over if they crossed paths again. He huffed off into his own pickup truck and peeled out of the parking lot.

The woman turned to Ziva. "Well, I for one am glad you didn't," she said thankfully. Putting out a hand with a smile, she said, "I don't think I've seen you before. I'm Cindy Thomas."

Ziva smiled back and shook her hand. "Ziva David."

Before she could say more, she sensed Jethro nearby and turned in his direction. "Everything OK?" he asked as he reached them.

With a small smile she nodded. Cindy was much more forthcoming. "Thanks to her it is." Then she got a good look at Gibbs. "Jethro Gibbs – is that you?"

He nodded as he tried to place her. "Cindy Thomas – well, used to be Baker."

His puzzlement cleared. "Sure – Heather's little sister." He looked at Ziva. "Her sister and I went to high school together."

Ah. This aspect of small town living was a little overwhelming to Ziva: everyone seemed to know one another or be related to each other or had gone to school with someone – or their sister.

"Nice to meet you," Ziva said.

"You, too. You in to see your dad?" she asked Jethro.

He looped an arm around a Ziva's waist. "We are."

Cindy took in the two of them and the engagement ring on Ziva's finger and put two and two together quickly and accurately. "So, are congratulations in order?"

Gibbs gave her his half-smile and a nod.

"Your dad must be thrilled," Cindy guessed.

"You could say that," Ziva agreed with a smile.

"Well, I wish the best to both of you," Cindy said. Looking up at Jethro, she continued, "Bobby Lee Kelly was being a pest and Ziva saved the day."

Clearly Bobby Lee had a reputation that even Jethro knew about.

"I did not –" Ziva started.

"She's good at that," Jethro interrupted, pulling her in a little closer.

"I'll let you get on with your day. Nice meeting you, Ziva; I hope to see more of you around here. And thanks again." They waited as Cindy got into her SUV and headed off with a wave, then they made their way to their truck where Jethro had left the cart with their things.

They made quick work of unloading the items he'd purchased, then climbed into the truck. She handed him the keys and Jethro put them in the ignition, but didn't make a move to start the vehicle just yet. Instead he looked at her silently until she said, "What?" knowing full well that he wanted some details. He didn't say a word, just stared at her expectantly.

"All right," she caved. "There was a man bothering this woman – Cindy – and then her things fell on the ground and I went to help her. That is all."

He gave her a look that said he knew that wasn't all, but he then he smirked. "Fully prepared to kick his butt if needed," he pointed out dryly.

"Of course," she confirmed with a wink. "You said I should be myself and that is one of the things I do best."

The corner of his mouth pulled up in that half-smile of his as he started up the truck and pulled out of the parking lot. He couldn't disagree with her there. You could take the woman out of Mossad, but you couldn't fully take the Mossad out of the woman. And he wouldn't, even if he could have.

X X X X X X X X X X

_Another A/N: I just couldn't resist that reference to UCLA for those of us who love Mark Harmon and football. ;D Some of you may be interested to know that Navy is actually on Penn State's schedule for 2012; I just may have to watch that game and root for Ziva's team. hehehe Hope you enjoyed the first Stillwater installment; feel free to let me know what you think. =)_


	10. Still Waters, Part 2

Their next stop was the dress shop. Jethro found it easily based on his dad's directions. As they entered the store, a handsome older woman glanced up from the counter with a pleasant smile. As she recognized Gibbs, her welcome became even warmer.

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs – what a nice surprise! I heard you were coming to town, but I didn't expect to see you," she said, moving toward them and holding out a hand.

He pressed her hand briefly. "Good to see you, too, ma'am. This is my fiancée, Ziva David; Ziva, this is Mrs. Clayson."

Ziva held out her own hand. "It is nice to meet you," she said with a small smile.

A brief look of surprise crossed Helen's features. "It is a pleasure to meet you, too, dear. Leroy, I can't believe your father hasn't told your good news from one end of town to the other."

Gibbs gave her his half-smile. "He just hasn't had time yet."

"I imagine he's delighted at the prospect of a wedding," Helen speculated.

"Actually, that is what brings us here," Ziva explained. "Jackson wants to take us out to celebrate tonight, but I did not bring anything with me for going out to dinner. Perhaps you would have something appropriate, Mrs. Clayson?"

"Please, call me Helen. You, too, Leroy; you're not in high school any more – and neither am I," her eyes twinkled with humor. "I'm sure I do, Ziva. Let's take a look. Where is he taking you – the Hawthornes' place?" Helen asked, already eyeing the racks of clothing with a practiced eye.

"Yes," Ziva confirmed.

"Leroy, why don't you have a seat over there," she gestured to a small couch by the changing rooms. "Ziva and I will join you shortly."

Jethro looked at Ziva first; with a squeeze of his hand she silently communicated that she was fine and he should go sit.

Helen guided Ziva to a couple of racks and they chose a few dresses for her to try. Ziva took them into one of the changing rooms, sparing a wink for Gibbs as she went by him.

She tried on a couple without success, then slipped on a mid-length black wrap-around dress with fitted sleeves that ended just below her elbows. It clung in all the right places without being tight. Hmmm…this felt like a good choice.

She opened the door of the changing room and stepped out to show Jethro. "I like this one; what do you think?"

He motioned for her to turn around. With a roll of her eyes, she did.

"Looks good," he agreed with a smile.

Just then Helen returned, carrying another dress over her arm. "Ziva, that looks lovely," Helen remarked approvingly, "and it will be perfect for the restaurant tonight."

"I do not suppose you have any shoes that would go with this?" Ziva asked, mentioning her size.

"I carry a few pairs; I believe I have something that will do nicely. While I look, I was wondering if you'd like to try this on." She held up a beautiful dress in a rich, gemlike shade of burgundy. "I couldn't resist ordering this from my supplier, but I'm afraid there's not much call for it around here. Perhaps you'd have use for it in DC? I think it would look gorgeous on you."

Ziva breathed in appreciatively, unable to stop herself from touching the soft fabric. Then she started to protest that she'd really only been planning to buy the one dress for dinner tonight.

Gibbs hadn't missed her first reaction and, besides – he thought she'd look beautiful in it, too.

"Try it on," he suggested.

Ziva looked at him.

"Please?" he asked with his charming half-smile. She never could resist the combination of that word and that smile, so with a slight shake of her head she took the dress and went back into the changing room.

After hanging the black dress back up, she slipped on the burgundy one. Fortunately, the zipper was down the side, so she could close it herself. Her eyes widened as she took in the full effect. The bodice slanted across her chest, leaving her left arm completely bare. In contrast, the slightly billowy right sleeve appeared to cover her from shoulder to wrist – until she moved and you noticed the slice of skin peeking through the slit that ran almost the length of the sleeve. The hem was on an angle; it was longer in the back, with the front ending just below her knees. She had to admit, it was indeed gorgeous…but she couldn't think of a single place where she would actually wear it.

"Ziver?" she heard through the door.

With a last look, she stepped out almost shyly to show Jethro. His eyes darkened appreciatively.

"What do you think?" she asked softly.

"I think," he said, standing to step close to her, "that we're buying two dresses today." Capturing her hand, he pressed a kiss to her fingers. "You look stunning."

She glowed at his words and the heat in his eyes, then her practical side took over. "But where will I wear it?"

"How about you let me take you out next Saturday and we'll find a place for you to wear it?" he suggested.

Her face lit up.

"We can go anywhere we want now," Ziva realized happily, excited at the prospect. Squeezing his fingers, she added, "I love your idea."

A wave of satisfaction rolled though him at her reaction.

"You know," Ziva marveled softly, "in some ways it will feel like another first date." She looked up him with a smile that was both bashful and delighted. His own lips couldn't help but curve in response.

They heard Helen's voice before they saw her. "Here we go – "

She stopped a few feet from where they were standing, admiring the sight before her. "Oh, Ziva. I just knew that dress was perfect for you."

"Thank you, Helen. It appears we are buying two dresses today after all," Ziva smiled, turning to face the other woman, but keeping her hand in Jethro's.

Helen beamed. "I brought some shoes for you to consider with the black dress. I also took the liberty of bringing these out." She held up a shoe that matched the burgundy in the second dress exactly, and Ziva couldn't help but try them on. Gibbs grinned to himself as he watched Ziva's face. She was such a contradiction sometimes. She could completely kick ass one moment and look dazzling in evening apparel the next.

After Ziva chose a pair of black shoes also, she changed back into her casual clothes and they took everything to the counter. Ziva reached for her credit card, but Gibbs beat her to it.

"Jethro," she protested, "you do not have to -"

"I know." He disarmed her with that smile again.

With a shake of her head, she backed off and they completed the sale. Helen waved them off with a hope that they would stop by again on their next visit to town.

They headed back to Jackson's, though Gibbs took a roundabout route so Ziva could see more of the town. Their companionable silence was broken by an occasional question from Ziva about something she saw that interested her or aroused her curiosity.

When they got home, Jackson had lunch ready for them to enjoy during the game. The older man commented that it looked like they'd had a successful outing. Ziva agreed, and they carried the clothing purchases upstairs before joining his dad.

They all ate lunch in front of the television as the football game started. Jethro liked football, too, but he was not quite as passionate - or vocal - about it as Ziva was. Near the end of the first quarter, she had her first outburst.

"That was pass interference!" she shouted at the TV. "How did they miss that? Are you blind? !" The last was directed at the referees on the field. The fact that they could not hear her did not deter her in the least.

Jackson looked at Jethro in surprise.

"Told you," Jethro murmured, heading out to work on the fence.

Jackson threw him a look that said _coward_ as Jethro made his retreat.

Throughout the game, Jackson was surprised at Ziva's grasp of the rules; even her questions showed a real understanding of what was happening. He got used to – and even enjoyed – her verbal eruptions when she got frustrated with a particular turn of events.

"Did Leroy teach you about American football?" he asked curiously during half-time.

"Some," she told him. "I also read a book about it and Tony filled in the rest of what I have learned so far."

Ziva got very disgruntled when Penn State pulled ahead by a field goal in the third quarter, which Jackson thought looked absolutely adorable on her. Fortunately, his sense of self-preservation kicked in and he refrained from saying so. Her mood lasted until the fourth quarter when Navy tied it up with a field goal of their own.

The game came down to the last minute when Navy intercepted the ball and ran it in for a touchdown. Game over.

"Yes!" Ziva shouted. She jumped up, pumped her fist in the air and did a happy dance.

Jackson was a little annoyed at the loss by his team, but he honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed a game so much.

Ziva stepped over to Jackson, resting an arm on his shoulders. "Your team played well today," she offered magnanimously.

A teasing glint came into her eye. "But I warned you not to underestimate the Navy." He couldn't help but chuckle in the face of her excitement.

"I will cook breakfast tomorrow anyway," she decided.

"No, no," Jackson protested. "I always pay my debts."

"We could cook together," she suggested, one eyebrow raised in question.

"Now, that'll work," he agreed, just because he'd enjoy sharing the task with her.

After she helped Jackson carry their dishes to the kitchen, Ziva walked outside to check on Jethro. Attempting to sneak up on him, she waited until he'd straightened at one point, then she made a running leap onto his back.

He huffed out a laugh and immediately reached his arms back to grasp her under her thighs to hold her in place.

"Knew you were there," he said smugly.

"You did not," she denied.

"Did so," he teased with an inward grin.

"Which door did I come out of?" she challenged.

"Front," he said, his arrogance peeking through in his tone. "Then you came around that side of the house." He nodded in the right direction.

She pretended to scowl for a moment, then she chuckled and pressed a kiss to his neck.

"OK, you knew I was there," she allowed.

"Navy musta won," he observed.

"And how do you know?" she asked archly.

"You're in a good mood – and I could hear you yelling 'yes!' clear out here," he grinned.

She laughed again and smacked a kiss to his cheek, hugging tightly against his back.

"So Jackson is cooking breakfast again, huh?" he asked.

"Actually, we are going to cook together," she informed him.

"Generous of you," he pointed out.

"The truth is I am looking forward to it," she admitted softly, resting her chin against his shoulder.

He squeezed her legs in acknowledgement of her happy tone. Then, in a quick move, he pulled her around to the front of him, trapping her bottom between his body and a section of fence he'd just repaired.

"Very smooth, Special Agent Gibbs," she noted appreciatively, humor adding a sparkle to her eyes as she tilted her head up at him.

Giving her a look that suggested she hadn't seen anything yet, he took one more step toward the fence so that he was pressed more tightly against her. Skimming his lips up her neck, he took her earlobe in his teeth and bit just hard enough to sting, then he soothed it with his tongue. She gasped and arched into him.

"Jethro," she breathed in vague protest, her eyes closing involuntarily, "we are outside…"

Blocked from anyone's view, he slid one hand between them and under her jacket to caress her breast. When he gently squeezed, her breath caught again.

Suddenly, he pulled back and said, "You're right; better stop," he agreed maddeningly.

Her eyes flew open, then narrowed at the smug grin on his face and the teasing glint in his eyes.

"Well," she pretended to huff, pushing her way down to flounce away from him. "We will see how you feel about that later."

Suddenly she found herself being pulled back and tossed over his shoulder. He had raked a pile of leaves away from the fence earlier and he tossed her lightly into it, following her down.

That earned him another gasp, then a giggle. She had never fallen into a pile of leaves before. She enjoyed the sound and the smell, and the feeling of him on top of her.

"You wouldn't really hold that against me tonight," he asked, rubbing his nose against hers, "would you?"

"I might," she returned coyly, even as she softened to cradle him more fully against her, giving lie to her words.

She knew he was smiling as he laid his head against her shoulder and tucked his nose into her neck. With a silent sigh she could feel, he relaxed into her.

It was a beautiful, sunny day. Ziva looked up at the blue sky with its white, puffy clouds and around at the trees that still held most of their colorful fall leaves. She reached out to crinkle some of the fallen leaves in one hand, holding Jethro with the other. She grinned and rained a handful of leaves down on him.

"Trying to sleep here," he pointed out without moving, causing her to chuckle.

She took in a full breath of the autumn air and let it out slowly. She couldn't remember a time when she'd felt more content…and it was all related to this man. Her hand moved up to caress his head and neck. Sliding her fingers into his hair, she pressed him just a little closer.

"I can hear you thinking," he mumbled into her throat.

She dropped a kiss to the top of his head, then responded to him softly. "I have never fallen into a pile of leaves or watched a game with someone who feels like a father to me or felt this happy…you have given all that to me."

He slowly raised his head to look into her beautiful brown eyes. Her heart tripped at the love she saw shining in his.

"That's nothing compared to what you've given me," he countered.

She looked at him quizzically.

"I'm alive again," he said simply.

Melting inside, she cupped his face in her hands. Sharing an intimate smile, their mouths moved slowly toward each other, brushing lightly, then pressing gently, clinging … then opening, each welcoming the other into a deep, slow kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck.

When he lifted his head, she slowly opened her eyes to find him gently tracing her features with his gaze.

"I love you," she told him, looking intently into his brilliant blue eyes.

"Love you back," he returned.

"I am so glad," she whispered.

Smiling, he pressed a brief kiss to her lips then pushed himself up. Reaching a hand down, he pulled her up and helped brush the leaves from her hair and clothes.

"Can I help you?" she asked, nodding toward the fence.

"Sure," he said.

He handed her the pry bar and showed her how to remove the broken or rotten pieces. She was a quick study and went to work on that while he followed behind her with the replacement boards to attach in their place. After she had removed all the damaged parts, he showed her how to line up the new pieces and nail them in. She looked so proud of herself after she had done one completely by herself that he couldn't help but grin and press a kiss to her cheek.

His father had always left the fence its natural wood color so once all the new boards were attached, they were finished. Gathering the tools, they returned them to the garage that sat behind the house and crossed the yard to join Jackson inside.

The old man was watching them through the living room window, finding the two of them much more mesmerizing than the second football game. As they walked toward the house, Jethro's arm was slung over Ziva's shoulders and her right arm was wrapped around his waist, thumb hooked in one of the belt loops on his jeans. Ziva was talking animatedly about something and both looked so thoroughly happy that he couldn't take his eyes off them. Blinking back tears, he realized he hadn't seen his son this content since before Shannon and Kelly had died…and maybe not even then. There was a maturity and a peacefulness about him now that had been missing all those years ago.

He lost sight of them as they entered the house through the back door. He heard them washing up in the kitchen, then they made their way to the living room.

"What game are you watching now?" Ziva asked, interested.

"Ohio State and Iowa," he told her.

"Who is winning?"

"Ohio State," he answered her.

"That will make Tony very happy," Ziva observed.

"It's a pretty good game, but the Buckeyes will win it," Jack predicted.

Ziva and Jethro settled in close together on the couch and watched some of the game with his dad. At half-time, Ziva excused herself to take a shower before they went out to dinner. Even though she'd had one that morning, she wanted her hair to look nice and sometimes the curls were more manageable just after she'd washed them.

Both men watched her leave the room.

Jethro turned his attention back to the television, but the older Gibbs observed his son.

"It's good to see you so happy, Leroy," Jackson said into the silence.

Jethro looked toward his dad. He started to let it pass without any response, and then reconsidered. "Feels good," he admitted.

"Your mother would have loved her," Jackson reflected.

After a pause, Jethro agreed in a low voice, "I know."

"I thought her father was still alive," Jackson commented, his tone questioning.

"Technically, he is," Jethro responded, neither his voice nor his face giving anything further away.

Jackson stared at his son for a moment, part of him hoping to hear more. When Jethro stayed silent, Jackson observed, "Then he's a damn fool."

Jethro cocked his head in acknowledgment, satisfaction in his gaze at the old man's words.

By unspoken agreement, they moved their attention back to the half-time report and the rest of their sparse conversation focused on that.

When the game started up again, Jethro stood to go upstairs and see if Ziva was finished with the shower so he could take a turn. Before leaving the room, he stopped by Jack's chair.

"Thanks for saying yes when she asked you to walk with her at the wedding," he said quietly.

Jackson looked up at him, a touch of amazement in his eyes. "I'm so tickled to do it, I feel like I should thank her for asking me," he admitted.

Jethro's lips curved in a faint smile as he gave his dad's shoulder a squeeze before heading upstairs.

He found Ziva in their room, her long damp hair pulled all to one side as she combed her fingers through it. She was looking at the two pictures that sat on the top of his dresser.

She caught his gaze in the mirror with a small smile. "I was admiring your pictures. I hope you do not mind."

"You can look at anything you want," he assured her, coming to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Shannon was very beautiful," Ziva observed softly, looking at a picture that was taken before they were married.

"She was," he agreed, pulling her a little more tightly against him. She wrapped her arms over his.

"Is that your mother?" she asked, nodding to the other picture.

"Mhm," he confirmed.

"She was lovely, too," Ziva noted. After a moment she added, "I cannot help but wonder if she would approve of her son marrying me."

"She would have loved you," he told her, echoing his father's earlier words.

Ziva tilted her head up at him in disbelief. "Jethro, I threw a knife at my own father yesterday. That does not seem like the kind of behavior of which she would approve," she said with just a hint of sadness.

Gazing at the picture of his mom, he smiled. "Actually, she was a lot like you in some ways."

Ziva looked at him incredulously. "That cannot be true," she denied, feeling worlds away from the well-coiffed woman smiling openly into the camera, dressed in a skirted suit and pearls in a style that was decades old.

"It's true," he responded. "Strong, loyal, spoke up for what she thought was right." Finding her eyes in the mirror again, one side of his mouth pulled up in a smile. "And she would definitely have gone to the rescue in that parking lot today." Ziva's eyes widened as he described his mother that way.

"She had an office in New York City," he revealed, smirking at the shock registering on Ziva's face at that news.

"She was a vice president of the United Methodist Women. For years she took a train into the city once a month for a couple of days to take care of business," he explained.

"That would have been very unusual at the time," Ziva correctly noted.

"Their group supported a nursing school, and she cast the deciding vote to allow African American women into that program about fifty years ago," he continued, in a rare moment of disclosure.

It was impossible to miss the pride in his voice.

Surprisingly, he elaborated. "She'd been held up at another meeting and when she rushed into the room, the decision was at a dead tie. It was supposed to be an anonymous vote, but she was the only one left. Everyone would know how she voted, but she didn't let that stop her from doing what she knew was right."

Ziva was speechless for a moment, in awe of the woman in the picture. "I wish I could have met her," she whispered, reaching out to gently touch the picture.

"Me, too," Gibbs admitted, feeling the loss of his mom more keenly in that moment than he had in years.

She turned in his arms, wrapping hers tightly around him and resting her face against his chest.

"I imagine it was not always simple for your father when she was doing things that most women did not do back then," Ziva pondered out loud.

Jethro was silent as he considered her words. His dad had never seemed anything but supportive of his mother in her pursuits even though he was old-fashioned in other ways. Ziva's comment made him realize that Jackson had been breaking the mold in his own way at the same time.

Rubbing her cheek against his shirt, she thought about both his parents and murmured, "No wonder you turned out so well."

"Don't know about that," he snorted.

"I do," she said firmly.

He was content to hold her quietly for a few minutes, marveling at his luck in having been loved by three amazing women in his lifetime.

Eventually, she stirred. "What time is it?"

He glanced at the clock. "5:45."

"We are leaving at 6:30, yes?"

He nodded.

"The shower is all yours. I will get dressed," she said. "But first…"

Ziva twined her arms about his neck and pulled him down for a kiss that kicked his heart rate up a notch or three. When she pulled back a little, she looked at him with her lips curved gently. "Thank you," she said.

"For what?" he husked.

"For sharing," she clarified.

He smiled that half-smile of his. "Promised you I'd try," he reminded her, referring back to their talk months ago in her favorite garden after the unwelcome visit of Shannon's mother.

She smiled back, recalling that conversation, too. "That is when we first talked about having children," she said softly.

"I remember," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Jackson says you make a wonderful father," she informed him, "and that he wishes he had always been the father you needed."

"You two covered a lot of ground over breakfast dishes," Gibbs side-stepped.

Her smile telegraphed her understanding. He'd hit his limit with the sharing stuff for the moment. "We did," she confirmed, releasing him with a pat on his chest. "Now go take your shower."

Before he went, he gently lifted her chin and kissed her softly, silently thanking her for taking him as he was.

As he went off to shower and shave, Ziva pulled her new black dress from the closet and slipped it on, then stepped into her shoes. After applying her makeup with a light hand, she went to work on her long dark curls. Just as she finished fussing with her hair, Gibbs stepped back into the room wearing nothing but his jeans and a towel slung around his neck.

He walked over and stood behind her in the mirror again. "Beautiful," he told her, resting his hands on her shoulders and giving a squeeze.

"Thank you," she smiled, fastening her earrings back in. She turned to rest her hands against his chest, fingers flexing appreciatively. "I hope you are planning to wear more than this or I will be too busy scaring off other women to eat."

"There are other women out there?" he asked with mock surprise.

"Good answer," she smirked, eyes twinkling up at him.

He grinned.

With a quick peck of her lips to his, she advised she'd see him downstairs and left the room.

He quickly pulled on a pair of dark khaki pants, t-shirt, light blue polo shirt and a dark jacket. He never went anywhere without at least one set of his usual attire.

On his way downstairs, he passed Jackson in the hall. The old man said he'd be down shortly, and soon they were on their way to dinner.

* * *

_A/N: The story about Gibbs' mom was modeled after my friend Dorothy, who passed away about 12 years ago at the age of 93. She was a remarkable woman who did indeed cast that deciding ballot for the integration of the Emory University School of Nursing. I was privileged to know her._

_The next chapter will finish up our visit to Stillwater and should be posted on Monday. Please note that it will be rated M for an intimate scene between Ziva and Gibbs in the second half of the chapter, although we'll start out at the restaurant. I think you'll like that part, as well; Bobby Lee makes a return appearance and Ziva handles things in her usual captivating style. ^_^ Thanks for reading and I'd love for you to share what you think of this chapter. _


	11. Still Waters, Part 3

_A/N: In honor of the one-year anniversay of my first posting on this site, I give you the final chapter in our visit to Stillwater. I hope it's been as enjoyable for you to read as it has been for me to write._

**_IMPORTANT NOTE: THIS CHAPTER IS RATED M FOR SEXUAL CONTENT IN THE SECOND HALF OF THE CHAPTER. I have placed a page break just prior to that scene in case you want to give that a miss._**

_As always, thanks for reading! Reviews are greatly appreciated._

* * *

Nothing in Stillwater was very far from anywhere else, so it wasn't long before the three of them were walking into the restaurant. Jackson proudly introduced Ziva to Nancy Hawthorne who greeted them. She was an attractive woman in her fifties with short blonde hair that was going to silver. She and her husband, Bill, had opened this place several months ago and were very pleased that business was thriving. Ziva glanced around, admiring the charming ambience. When she said as much to Nancy, the woman glowed at the compliment as she guided them to their table.

The three diners decided to forego an appetizer in favor of their salads, as Ziva confessed she'd rather save room for dessert. She decided on salmon, while both men ordered steak. They attracted a fair amount of attention, though none of it unkind. Several people stopped by the table ostensibly to greet father and son, but with a clear underlying agenda of the friendly sort. Ziva met so many residents of the small town that she started to lose track of the names.

During a lull in the visitors, Jackson commented, "I've never been this popular." His beaming smile said he couldn't be more tickled at the attention or the reason for it.

Ziva grinned and finished her salad, then excused herself to find the ladies room. Both men stood as she got up, their gaze following her as she asked a member of the wait staff for directions. Theirs weren't the only eyes on her, though only one pair was calculating and bordering on hostile.

Not too long after she disappeared down the hallway to the restrooms, a man followed. Jethro's gaze was blocked by the arrival of their dinners, but Jackson noticed immediately, as did several other diners. Getting his son's attention, he said, "That boy's always been trouble. Maybe you'd better go meet up with Ziva." Jack's tone was worried.

"Ziva can take care of herself," Jethro responded. His voice was nonchalant, but his gaze trained on the hallway was anything but.

Jackson looked dubious. "Well, if you're not gonna check on her, I will."

"Jack -" Jethro started, but the man was already halfway to his goal, moving surprisingly fast with his cane.

Just before he reached the hall he heard two voices, the feminine one determinedly soft and non-engaging. The man's, however, seemed quite insistent, on the verge of ramping up to angry. Suddenly, there was a soft thud, accompanied by a distinct "oompf."

Ziva appeared, looking completely unfazed. As she stopped to speak to Jackson where the hallway met the dining room, the owners of the restaurant rushed over.

"Ziva, are you all right?" Nancy asked.

"I am fine," Ziva assured her, "but Mr. Kelly appears to have fallen." She gestured over her shoulder into the hallway.

Bill Hawthorne went to haul Bobby Lee to his feet (and straight out the back door), while Ziva suggested to Jackson that they return to their table. A hush had fallen over the restaurant, followed by excited whispers as diners rushed to tell others what they knew or surmised. Ziva ignored it, attempting to act as though nothing had happened.

As Jethro held her chair for her to sit, he murmured into her ear, "Anything I should know?"

"Yes," Ziva answered calmly. "Do not buy the same shoes as Mr. Kelly; they appear to be quite slippery."

Jethro smirked and brushed a kiss across her cheek before taking his own seat again. Ziva tucked into her salmon as though nothing untoward had occurred. In truth, she wanted to downplay the whole thing as much as possible. She really did not want to cause a scene here in Jethro's hometown, but she'd finally had no other option in order to get out of that hallway than to knock Bobby Lee down a peg or two. Literally. Well, flip him down, if you wanted to be technical about it.

Jackson's eyes were a little dazed as he looked over at his son. Jethro gave his patented half-smile, his head tilting to his right once in acknowledgement, clearly communicating _told ya._

Ziva caught that look and asked, "Told him what?"

If Jackson had been astonished before, he was now nearly tongue-tied. What, did the woman read minds, too? Jethro's mouth widened into a full-blown grin that said he was clearly not surprised in the least.

Jackson recovered and spoke up first. "I thought maybe you'd need one of us in that hallway, but Leroy said you could take care of yourself."

Ziva's own smile bloomed. Placing a hand on her fiance's thigh, she gave an appreciative squeeze, her eyes sending a clear message that he'd given the perfect answer. Then she turned her attention to Jackson.

"I need you both," she told him, "just not to handle the likes of Bobby Lee Kelly." And with a wink, she returned to her dinner.

Shortly thereafter, Nancy Hawthorne arrived at the table carrying a bottle of champagne in a small silver bucket on an elegant stand and crystal champagne flutes. Ziva, Jethro and Jackson all looked at her in surprise.

"There must be some mistake," Jackson started, but Nancy interrupted him.

"No mistake, Jackson," she informed him, placing the bucket between Ziva and Jethro. "This is a gift to Ziva from that table over there." As she broke the seal on the bubbly drink, she nodded toward a table of four women a few tables away seated near the entrance to the hallway Ziva had recently exited. "But I thought she might share, so I brought three glasses." She proceeded to pour a glass for each of them at the table.

As they looked over to the table in question, all four women raised their glasses in a silent toast to Ziva. She grinned and picked up her own glass, saluting them in return with an incline of her head. Jethro thought he recognized Heather Baker in the mix. Well, that explained that a bit more.

Mrs. Hawthorne leaned down and confided in a low voice, "Bobby Lee has been harassing every woman and girl around here since he was in elementary school. It's not very neighborly to say this, but it's nice to see him get his comeuppance."

"Oh, I – " Ziva began to deny, only to get cut off.

"Please, honey," Nancy said to the Israeli kindly, "give us a little credit." She laid a hand on Ziva's shoulder. "Welcome to Stillwater, Ziva; we're glad to have you." With a final wish for them to enjoy the champagne, she walked away.

Now it was Ziva's turn to look stunned as she turned her gaze to Jethro. He gave her a small, satisfied smile and found her hand with his.

Jackson suggested a toast. Holding his glass in the air, he offered, "To Ziva, for bringing joy back into more than one Gibbs' house and to Leroy, for being smart enough to hang onto her." Ziva chuckled and Jethro smirked as they all clinked glasses.

"Seriously," Jackson intoned after they'd each taken a sip, "it does this old heart good to see both of you so happy. Welcome to the family, Ziva."

"Thank you," she responded warmly, and leaned over to place a kiss on the old man's cheek.

They finished their dinners and the sparkling wine, and shared a huge piece of chocolate cake for desert. While Jackson settled the bill, Jethro – who'd limited himself to one glass of the bubbly – went to get the truck.

Ziva and Jackson said their goodbyes to the Hawthornes, who invited them to come back soon.

"People keep saying that to me here," Ziva observed with a shake of her head as she and Jackson made their way down the front steps of the restaurant just as Jethro pulled up.

"They mean it," Jackson advised as he opened the passenger-side door for her. Ziva climbed in and slid over on the bench seat next to Jethro, as Jackson followed close behind.

* * *

When they got home, Jackson invited them to watch a John Wayne movie on TV with him, to be followed by his standard viewing of the eleven o'clock news. The couple passed in favor of turning in, and wished the older man goodnight. Before he settled into his favorite chair, Ziva hugged him and thanked him for dinner. He reminded her of their date to fix breakfast; apparently Ziva wasn't the only one looking forward to that.

Upstairs, Jethro made short work of getting ready for bed. Putting an arm behind his head, he leaned back against the pillows and watched as Ziva moved around the room doing the same. After she hung up her dress and slipped on her soft cotton pajamas, she threw Jethro a ghost of a smile and headed to the bathroom to clean her face and brush her teeth.

Coming back in, she slid into bed beside him, leaving the bedside lamp on for now. Propping her head on one hand, Ziva turned on her side and rolled up against Gibbs.

"Dinner was nice tonight," she commented, resting her left hand on his chest.

Jethro covered her hand with his, his thumb rubbing almost absently over her engagement ring. "Still worried about fitting in?" he asked, one side of his mouth lifting into his patented smile as he looked at her.

"Not so much," she admitted, secretly glad that he didn't seem to feel any more need than she did to dissect the situation with Bobby Lee. It had happened; she had handled it. End of story.

In a voice touched with amazement, she continued, "They seem to like me."

"Like you?" he snorted. "If you stuck around, I think they'd elect you sheriff."

She grinned delightedly. "Well, it is always good to have a backup plan."

At that, she found herself suddenly flat on her back. The bed gave a squeak as Gibbs pressed her into the soft mattress.

"You'd better not have a backup plan for me," he growled.

"Well…." She looked thoughtful. "There _is_ always your father."

In a split second, he'd captured both of her hands in one of his, holding them above her head. His other hand began tickling her mercilessly.

"Jethro!" she protested, but the punch was lost in her laughter.

"Say it – no backup plan for me," he ordered, refusing to stop tickling her until she complied.

By this time she was twisting around as much as she could and trying so hard to laugh quietly that she could hardly breathe.

"All right, all right," she gave in breathlessly. "You win – no backup plan for you."

He stopped tickling her, looking down into her laughing, happy face. God, she looked so beautiful…eyes sparkling, lips curved, hair spread out over the pillow. Sometimes he looked at her and couldn't believe she wasn't with someone twenty years younger.

"Mine," he whispered, his eyes darkening as he looked into hers.

She gentled, tugging one hand free to cup his jaw in her hand. "Yours," she confirmed, lifting her face up to brush her lips over his. "Always." With another brush across his mouth, she laid back and looked up with all the love she felt for him shining clearly and solidly in her eyes. "Permanently."

"Permanently," he agreed, bending his head to capture her lips in a kiss that was long and slow and saturated with feeling. He released her other hand to slide his arm under her, while her fingers slid around to skim through his hair.

When he slowly raised his head, his gaze traveled her features again, unable to help himself.

"You're the only woman who's ever stayed in this room with me," he reflected in a quiet voice.

Confusion warred with surprise on her face. "Surely you and Shannon…"

He shook his head. "No one put us in the same room before we were married," he commented wryly, "and after, always stayed at her parents'."

It would not have bothered her if they had shared this room, but she couldn't deny that part of her was elated to know that he'd made this memory with her and no one else. Catching her bottom lip in her teeth, she smiled as her fingers moved gently over his face as though learning him all over again.

She didn't voice her reaction, but he knew…and understood. With a smile of his own that acknowledged he was glad, too, he brought his mouth back to hers, their kisses gradually deepening until they grew more and more urgent and heated.

His body hardening, he pressed against her more firmly, his mouth leaving hers to wander down to that spot on her neck that made her crazy. She gasped and arched into him. Her arms looped around his neck, one hand pressing into his back while the other cradled his head to her even more closely.

His tongue traced a path to her ear. "Want you," he breathed, capturing her earlobe in his mouth.

"Your father –" she began a token protest even as her body softened to mold against his.

"Is downstairs watching TV for at least the next two hours," he pointed out, nibbling his way back down her throat and across the tops of her breasts. "Worried you can't be quiet enough?" he challenged, throwing her a look that managed to be teasing and sexy at the same time.

"You are _not_ worried about that?" she questioned with a breathy laugh, eyebrow raised, not even bothering to deny it.

"Don't care," he admitted, running his tongue along the scooped edge of her top. "Love hearing you."

She gasped his name as he dipped his tongue under her shirt to lick the valley between her breasts.

"Like that," he murmured in satisfaction.

He slipped his right hand under her shirt, finding more of her. She bowed into him, giving herself up to the tide of desire that pulled at her.

Sliding his hand down, Gibbs tugged at the tie to her pants, loosening them. Sliding his hand inside, he pushed them down and off her.

As he repositioned himself more firmly on top of her, the mattress squeaked again. Ziva froze.

"Jethro," she whispered urgently.

"Mmm?" he responded, as he pushed her top up to reveal her left breast. His mouth wasted no time in following his hand, exploring her with his tongue as though he had all the time in the world.

She momentarily lost the power of thought as he tugged her nipple into his mouth to suckle her slowly and deeply – until he moved and the bed squeaked again.

"The bed is squeaking," she informed him a little desperately.

"So?" he responded distractedly, uninterested in anything but her chest.

"So? It is noisy. I-" she broke off as he finally lifted his head to look at her with a gaze that was so blazing hot with desire that it stole her breath.

In an adroit move, he rolled to his back and positioned her on top of him.

"Try this," he directed in throaty murmur.

His much heavier body depressed the mattress more deeply so the addition of her weight over his barely moved it. As she slid against him experimentally, she was pleased to find he was right: no squeaking.

With a look of admiration, she bent over and braced her arms on either side of his head.

"Smart man," she complimented him. "I knew there was a reason I keep you around."

He chortled quietly at her teasing as she traced the curve of his ear with the very tip of her tongue.

"That the only reason?" He cocked an eyebrow at her, his hands busy taking up where his mouth had left off.

"Well…" she drawled. "Perhaps there are one or two additional reasons."

He pushed his hips against her center suggestively.

"Mmm…" she breathed with feeling. "Definitely that."

Then she raised her head and looked into his eyes, growing more serious.

"And then there is the fact that I love you more than I ever believed possible," she told him in a voice husky with emotion.

"Never stop," he entreated in a tone that was almost harsh with stark need, his eyes locked with hers, hiding nothing.

"Never," she pledged confidently, leaning in to swamp his senses with a passionate kiss that sealed her promise.

Unhurriedly coming up for air, Ziva sat up, straddling him. Her eyes on his, she pulled off her top and dropped it over the side of the bed. She looked so alluring he thought he might come just from staring at her. His gaze dropped, unable to keep from wandering over her.

She smiled at him knowingly and ran her hands under his t-shirt. Dear God, she loved to touch him.

"Off," she commanded in a low, sexy voice. He lifted up from the bed so they could tug his shirt over his head to follow hers.

Holding him to her and luxuriating in the feel of his chest rubbing against hers, she kissed him deeply. His hands roamed over her back and hips, molding her body even more closely to his before moving around to caress her breasts. A low moan of pleasure escaped her throat.

Slowly she released his mouth and pushed him back down to the bed. She moved her mouth over his chest and stomach in a leisurely fashion, making sure to cover every inch of him. When she reached the waistband of his boxers, she placed maddeningly slow kisses along the edge. She started at his left hip, giving his hard length only the barest of brushes as she worked her way to his right. She felt him leap under her touch as he moaned her name, and she couldn't help the satisfied smile that curved her lips.

"Hmmm?" she asked softly, continuing her slow kisses at his waist. "Is there something you want, Jethro?"

"Yes," he groaned, tangling his fingers in her hair.

"And what would that be?" she wondered, dipping her tongue into his belly button, causing his breath to catch. Her voice stayed low as she spoke; he could almost feel it vibrating against his skin.

"Your mouth…on me," he managed.

"My mouth is on you," she pointed out matter-of-factly, her lips never leaving his skin.

"Not…there," he panted.

"Where?" she asked with mock innocence, scraping her teeth over his hip. A low noise sounded in his throat. Her lips and tongue roamed everywhere but the very center of him where the front of his boxers was now tented with proof of his desire for her.

"Here," he growled, using one hand to position her head over his straining cock and the other to push at the offending material covering it.

"Mmmm…" She nuzzled his hardness as more of him emerged from the constraints of his clothing. Going ever so slowly, she lapped at him with her tongue, scooping up the droplets leaking out on the tip of his swollen shaft.

"Like that?" she murmured.

"More," he begged, feeling like he just might die if she didn't take him in her mouth soon.

Deciding she'd tormented him almost enough, she tugged his boxers down and off, tracing her way back up the inside of one leg with her tongue as her nails lightly scraped the other. Stopping just short of her ultimate goal, she switched her mouth to his other thigh.

He moaned her name again. "Ziver…"

"Now who is having trouble being quiet?" she teased in a sexy murmur, then finally ran her tongue up the length of his cock.

His breath caught, his voice finally stolen. Taking pity on him, she took him into her mouth as deeply as she could. His hands flexed in her hair, holding her there. Slowly she moved her mouth up and down on him, sucking, tongue swirling, nearly swallowing him whole. She was tireless as she pleasured him, taking pleasure from it herself.

Time seemed to stand still as their world was reduced to this room, this bed, each other. The sensations running through both of them took them closer and closer to the edge.

"Getting...close," he panted after what seemed like a gloriously endless amount of time.

She released him from her mouth, but kept her lips against his erection as she spoke.

"Not yet," she instructed in a voice that was almost gruff with need of her own. "I want you inside me."

"Ziva…" he implored.

"Do you want to be inside me, Jethro?" she asked in a throaty voice that was just above a whisper, even as her mouth continued to work its magic.

"God, yes," he groaned.

With a last lick, she lifted her face and rose over him. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself to the hilt inside her in one stroke, but he had handed her the reins. Besides, he needed to make sure she was as close to completion as he was.

"You ready for me?" he husked.

"Perhaps you should find out for yourself," she whispered, rising up on her knees to give him better access.

His fingers slid up the inside of her thigh and through her tight curls, finding her slick heat. Her breath catching in her chest, she closed her eyes and dropped her head back, her dark hair falling in waves down her back. She was hot and wet and the most incredible sight he'd ever seen.

"Every time I think you couldn't possibly be any more beautiful to me, you prove me wrong," he whispered.

At his words, she slowly brought her head forward until she was looking into his face. With the smile of a woman who knows she is well-loved, she flowed up his chest to capture his lips with hers, rubbing herself against his hand.

Tracing a line of kisses from his mouth to his ear, she breathed, "I am ready."

Without hurry, he moved his hand to her hip so she could center herself over him. He watched as she took him in her hand and slowly lowered herself onto his hard length until they were both gasping for air and robbed of the capacity to speak. He was mesmerized by the vision of their two bodies becoming one, though she couldn't take her eyes from his face.

Once he was seated completely inside her, she bent to cage his head between her arms again. His hands moved up to cup her breasts, caressing, kneading. Their connection practically sizzled in the air between them as they looked deeply into each other's eyes. Slowly she began to move, bringing even more pleasure to them both.

Her lips alternately brushed and clung to his in a series of brief kisses until her tongue darted out to trace his lower lip. That drove him wild. With one hand grasping her waist and the other cupping the back of her head, he took her mouth in a deep, need-filled, tongues-tangling kiss.

With the help of his hands on her hips, Ziva moved faster and faster on him, hurtling them both toward the cliff of their mutual desire. Just before their climax, he captured her mouth again with his, swallowing her cry as she came, even as she did the same for him. They tumbled over the edge together, clutching each other tightly on the way down.

Breathing heavily, heart pounding, Ziva melted onto Jethro's chest, tucking her nose into his neck, sliding her fingers into his hair to press against him even more closely. Utterly boneless, she couldn't have moved if she'd wanted to.

Wrapping his arms around her back, he held her to him as though he'd never let her go. That was only fitting; he didn't intend to. In fact, he was perfectly content to just lie here with her like this for the rest of his days.

They lay exactly like that for a long time, both of them drowsy and completely satiated. Eventually Ziva made a half-hearted attempt to reach for the lamp that was still burning.

He mumbled something that sounded vaguely like "Where you going?" and his arms tightened reflexively around her.

"Light," she murmured, unable to muster enough energy for a complete sentence.

"I'll get it," he offered. "In a minute…"

Several minutes later, Jethro exerted himself enough to turn off the lamp. As he moved, he slipped out of her, prompting a low sound of protest from her. He turned back to her and they shifted to their sides of one accord, facing each other, not even a breath of air between them. Ziva snuggled into Jethro's chest, their arms and legs completely entangled.

Lifting her chin with the side of his hand, he softly kissed her goodnight.

"'night, Ziver," he murmured, laying his head back on his pillow.

"Goodnight," she returned, smiling sleepily and pressing one last kiss to his chest.

"Love you," she sighed, unsure if she'd said it out loud or just thought it in her head.

"Love you, too," he responded, his last coherent thought until morning.

Nestling back in and still smiling, Ziva drifted off to sleep, Jethro right beside her. Permanently.


	12. First Date: The SetUp

_A/N: My heartfelt thanks to all of you who read (and reviewed!) "Out of the Shadows," the missing scene between "Unwelcome Visitors" and "Revelations" that was written and posted recently. Apparently I need to stop guessing how many chapters are left in this story, as the "First" Date ended up with more words than I expected and, hence, is broken into two chapters that I decided to post at the same time. I can say that there are two major scenarios left, though I will resist the urge to predict how many chapters they will take to play out. Please know that every review is greatly appreciated. =) Hope you enjoy this!_

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* * *

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Monday evening found Ziva still at her desk, looking through a stack of cold cases in hopes of finding a new lead. Not even this tedious work, though, could erase the smile that had hovered about her lips all day as thoughts of their weekend in Stillwater floated through her mind.

_Sunday…_

She and Jackson did indeed cook breakfast together Sunday morning, both of them enjoying themselves immensely with the simple, everyday task. They decided to make French toast, and Ziva introduced Jackson to the concept of adding vanilla and cinnamon to the beaten egg mixture. He was impressed. Jethro sat at the kitchen table with his coffee and the paper, surreptitiously observing them. Watching Jack with Ziva allowed Jethro to see his dad differently, to see him in a light in which he hadn't for longer than he cared to remember. And nothing ever made him happier than to see Ziva confident, cared for and enjoying herself.

After breakfast dishes had been cleared away, the three of them piled into Jethro's truck and the men gave Ziva the grand tour of the entire area, driving for miles in a large geographic circle.

They ate a late lunch at a restaurant in an old-fashioned working mill, then worked their way back to Jackson's. Shortly after, Ziva and Jethro loaded up their bags to head back home. As they said their goodbyes, Ziva hugged Jackson tightly.

"Thank you," she whispered in his ear, eyes squeezed tightly shut against the happy tears that threatened, "for everything."

He had just smiled and hugged her back, the lump in his throat stealing his voice. His arms around her and the kiss on her forehead silently communicated that it was his pleasure. All of it.

As they climbed into the truck, he called out huskily for them to come back soon and waved them off.

_Back to Monday…_

The team had not been called out on a case at all that day, so the shift had been full of nothing but paperwork, cold cases and Tony's antics. Ziva was in such a good mood that she gave him back as good as she got. Gibbs and McGee just enjoyed the show – except when Tony was on the receiving end of the Gibbs stare for coming close to crossing that invisible line into inappropriate land.

The rest of the team was now gone for the day. Gibbs was under an ultimatum from Vance to get a tall stack of his team's reports reviewed and signed, so he'd spent most of his day with that task. He had also been doing some digging on a cold case himself that was on his mind. He wasn't quite ready to leave when he ordered the others to go home. McGee offered Ziva a ride, but she'd smiled and said she'd wait for Gibbs, secretly thrilled that she could now say that out loud. She really didn't mind waiting; she'd rather be here with him doing paperwork than be at home without him.

Jethro stood, capturing her attention. As she looked over, he gave her a faint smile and said, "Be back in a minute, then we can go."

She nodded and watched him take the stairs up to the director's office two at a time, the stack of reports under his arm.

Ziva put away her own files and shut down her computer. The completely empty squad room was uncharacteristically silent. The team that was on rotation this evening was out on a case and everyone else had gone home. After more time had passed than she'd expected and Jethro still hadn't come back, she started to wonder what was taking him so long.

Suddenly her cell phone rang. The caller ID told her it was Gibbs.

"I was just wondering where you were," she answered, her smile evident in her voice.

"Is this Ziva? Ziva David?" a male voice she knew to be Jethro's said into her ear.

"Yes," she answered, drawing the word out slowly, confusion evident in her voice and on her face. _What was he up to?_

"This is Jethro Gibbs," the man continued. "I work at the desk next to you. Maybe you've noticed?" The last was offered in a hopeful voice.

She grinned. She had no idea what was going on here, but she loved it when his mischievous side came out to play, so she gladly went along.

"As a matter of fact, I have noticed you," she admitted, wandering toward the window to look out into the darkness as she spoke. "Strong leader. Excellent investigator." Her voice dropped an octave. "_Very _handsome."

She could just picture the corresponding grin that she knew was on his face, too.

He cleared his throat. "I was wondering…would you be interested in having dinner with me Saturday night?"

Amused pleasure bloomed on her face, but it took a minute for her to connect all the dots. While in the dress shop in Stillwater, they had made plans to go out Saturday night. _In some ways it will almost be like another first date_ she'd told him, excited at the whole idea of it.

Her heart turned over in her chest. How was it possible that she kept falling in love with this man all over again?

"I would be very interested in that," she admitted, emotion reducing her voice to nearly a whisper.

"Glad to hear it," he responded, sounding a little relieved. "Pick you up at six?"

"I will be ready," she promised, her voice stronger. "What should I wear?"

"Let's go someplace nice," he suggested. "You know, dress up."

"That sounds good," she said, picturing her new burgundy dress in her mind's eye all over again. "Do you need my address?"

"Investigator, remember?" he returned. "I'll find you."

As she smiled, her attention was caught by his reflection in the window glass. He was up on the catwalk that led to Vance's office, having just moved to the railing. He'd been standing where he could see her, but she couldn't see him until he had changed his position.

Looking at him in the glass, she offered, "I look forward to it. See you at work tomorrow?"

"If not before," he answered enigmatically, then characteristically ended the call without saying goodbye.

She pushed "end" on her phone and turned to look up at him. He was smiling at her with that look he reserved only for her. Impulsively she snatched up her backpack in one hand and ran up the steps to take hold of his hand. Too impatient to wait for the elevator, she tugged him into the stairwell. Her back to the wall, she pulled him against her and attacked his mouth.

When she let him up for air, she rested her forehead against his chin.

"Not that I'm complaining," he started, "but what was that for?"

"For being you," she husked.

He smiled and pressed a kiss to her brow.

"Ready to go home?" he asked. She nodded, and they continued down the stairs.

Just as they went through the door into the parking garage, she spoke.

"By the way, you will have to find something to do with yourself on Saturday evening," she informed him. "I have a date."

* * *

_Saturday_

They spent Saturday as they usually did when they weren't working. After sleeping in a little, they tackled some cleaning, laundry and yard work - all those household tasks that were easily put off during the week. Around four Jethro found her pulling their sheets out of the dryer in the basement.

"Got a couple things to do," he advised her. "I'll be back."

She looked up at him quizzically. This was the first she'd heard he'd be leaving.

"Is everything all right?" she asked.

"Mhm," he responded, bending down to kiss her cheek. On his way back to the steps he reminded her, "Don't forget – be ready by six."

Now she was really confused, but she let him go, feeling awkward about pushing for information that he obviously didn't want to give.

Ziva took the fresh-smelling sheets upstairs and quickly remade their bed. She decided to go ahead and take her shower so that her hair would have time to dry. In fact, she impulsively decided to take a bubble bath complete with a glass of wine and a candle burning. She might as well pamper herself a little while she had the time. Besides she could relax and daydream about Jethro, the mere thought of which made her smile and her stomach flip-flop.

After a while, she washed her hair and shaved her legs – after all, she had definite ideas about the way the evening would end, she smirked to herself – then got out of the tub. After drying off, she rubbed one of her favorite lotions into her skin, luxuriating in the aroma of exotic flowers and spice. She combed out her hair to get started on that. For tonight, she had decided to wear it straightened out and curled at the ends with one side pushed back over her ear, which always took a while to accomplish.

At five fifteen, she seriously started to wonder where Jethro was as she applied her makeup. At five-thirty she tried calling him, but it went to voice mail; she did not leave a message. Fifteen minutes later, she had slipped into that gorgeous burgundy dress and the matching shoes. She kept her jewelry simple, adding elegant earrings with an oval pearl that hung down to complete the effect she was aiming for. Looking in the mirror, her pleasure at the outfit was dimmed just a little by the fact that Jethro still wasn't home. She decided to try him again and this time he picked up.

"Hey," he said, as though nothing were amiss. "You ready?"

"Yes," she answered. "Where are you?"

"On my way," he answered. "See you in a few minutes." He hung up without saying anything else. She cleared her phone feeling more confused than ever. She briefly wondered if she should lay out his clothes so that he could get ready quickly, but realized she wasn't sure what he was planning to wear. With an inward shrug, she put a few things into a small black clutch purse and went downstairs to wait for him.

At six o'clock on the dot, she was just considering calling Jethro's phone again when the doorbell rang, taking her by surprise. When she opened the door, her gaze was immediately captured by a bouquet of white roses. Her heart thumped and she lifted her eyes to the face of the man who was holding them. Jethro. She was speechless.

He gave that half-smile that never ceased to make her all tingly inside. "Hi," he offered.

"Hi," she responded with a smile of her own, emotion making her voice husky. She stepped back, opening the door more widely. "Come in."

He stepped through the doorway and turned to her. "You look beautiful," he told her, his eyes saying all that his words didn't.

"Thank you," she returned, joy blooming on her face. "You look very handsome yourself." He was dressed in a black suit, white shirt and a burgundy tie. She hadn't even known he possessed a tie in that color. Come to think of it, she wasn't completely sure he owned _any_ ties. Well, maybe one.

He held out the flowers. "These are for you," he offered.

Completely enchanted, she took them. "Thank you," she said, unable to resist burying her nose in them to inhale their heady scent.

His heart rate kicked up just watching her.

"Let me put these in water, then we can go," she suggested, carrying them toward the kitchen. He followed her, watching as she found a vase in the back of a cupboard and arranged the flowers.

"Nice place you've got here," he mentioned, uncharacteristically making small talk.

She grinned, her back to him. "Thank you. I am very happy here myself," she said with a wink as she turned back holding the vase. She carried it to the living room and placed it on the table beside the couch.

"There," she said, satisfied. Picking up her bag, she asked, "Shall we go?"

He nodded and held out his arm. With a delighted grin, she placed her hand in his bent elbow and they walked through the door after he'd opened it. Keeping up the pretense, she was the one to lock the door with her keys that she'd thrown into her purse out of habit. As they turned toward the driveway, Ziva stopped short.

Instead of his silver truck, the driveway was occupied by a shiny gunmetal grey Jaguar XKR-S. She looked at Jethro in shock. He smirked.

Dropping his role for a moment, he murmured into her ear, "Buddy of mine's been needing to use my truck. Today seemed like a good day for the trade." He looked down at her face. "My truck doesn't quite go with the dress, and besides - only have one chance to make a good first impression on my date."

She was absolutely astounded by the planning he'd put into all this. Blinking back tears, she raised a hand to his cheek. She tried to speak, but didn't have the words to do justice to the feelings swelling inside her. The discerning smile in his eyes told her he got the message loud and clear.

Reaching up, she brushed a kiss across his lips. "Let me assure you," she whispered once she found her voice, "your date is already very impressed."

He grinned and after a brief peck to her lips, he led her to the low-slung sports car. Opening her door, he assisted her inside. As they started off, she asked where they were going.

"That's need to know," he winked.

Reaching over for her hand, he murmured, "Trust me."

"Always," she whispered.

He raised her hand to his lips, then placed it on his thigh, keeping hold of it.

They drove north into Baltimore to the harbor area. Gibbs pulled into a semi-circular drive under a portico in front of an elegant brick building. One valet opened Ziva's door for her, while another went around to Jethro's side and took the keys from him. The tastefully ornate sign indicated this was Blues Alley Jazz Club. If Ziva had been shocked before, she was now positively blown away.

As Jethro came around the car, she found his gaze with hers. He allowed a satisfied smirk at her stunned look, then placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her in.


	13. First Date

The roomy entryway to the club was lush and stylish with deep reds and golds in ample abundance. The hostess greeted them pleasantly and Gibbs gave her his name. She checked her list and guided them to their table, Jethro's hand still at the small of Ziva's back.

He held her chair for her, then sat to her left. By unspoken agreement they had chosen the two chairs with the wall behind them so they could see the room. Ziva looked around in wonder.

The dining area had several tables set up with white table cloths, sparkling stemware, and a low, fat candle. The napkins were a deep pine green and the silverware gleamed.

Across the room was a low stage clearly for some kind of entertainment, and in front of that was … a dance floor.

Ziva looked at Jethro, unable to find words at first. She clasped his right hand with her left, pulling him toward her. She pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, then raised the fingertips of her right hand to his face, wonder in her eyes.

Looking at him with all the love she felt for him, she asked softly, "I realize this will seem very sudden for a first date, but will you marry me?"

With that patented smile, he raised her left hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the spot where his ring encircled her finger. "Already on it," he advised with a twinkle in his eye.

She gave a delighted laugh and finally found her equilibrium again, just as he'd intended.

"How did you find this place?" she asked, looking around again.

"I have my ways," he side-stepped.

"We are in Baltimore..." she looked at him consideringly. "Tony."

He pretended to look affronted. "What – you don't think I could have found this on my own?"

She gave him a knowing look. "Oh, you could have – but you did not."

He grinned, busted. "Well, I called the number to make the reservation…after DiNozzo dug it up for me."

She laughed again, already enjoying herself more than she had even imagined she would.

They both ordered filet mignon for dinner and they split an excellent bottle of red wine. Ziva asked where he'd gotten ready, and he revealed he'd gone to Ducky's for that. Their conversation flowed easily, gravitating toward their wedding plans. They had decided on the way home from Stillwater to get married on New Year's Eve. Ziva loved the symbolism of starting out the new year as a married couple and Jethro would have married her on any day she wanted.

They were still trying to decide where to have it; so far all they knew with certainty is that they did not want it in a synagogue or a church, just because neither of them was religious. As they ate their salads, Ziva broached an idea.

"I was wondering…" she said, "what do you think about a hotel or something like that? Perhaps there would be space for both the ceremony and the reception, and we could all spend the night rather than be out driving on New Year's Eve."

"Works for me," he said. "Where?"

"I have no idea," she admitted ruefully, then grinned. "I will have McGee help me run a search."

He smirked, but didn't disagree. It was what he would do.

"Don't know much about it," Jethro said, "but do you want any Jewish wedding …" He paused, searching for the right word, then settled on "…stuff?"

She grinned inwardly. _Jewish wedding stuff._ He got points for asking, even if he was short on eloquence. At first Ziva shrugged, then fiddled with her silverware.

"Actually, there is something, if you would not mind," she admitted.

"I won't mind," he assured her.

She gave him a look. "You do not want to hear the idea first?" she asked skeptically. "What if it involves red leather pants?"

"As long as they're on you, I'm good to go," he grinned, eyes twinkling.

She rolled her eyes at him, but a small smile played about her lips.

"You know, Jethro, you _are_ allowed to disagree with me," she pointed out. "It is your wedding, too."

"All I need is you and someone to make it legal," he declared firmly. "If you're happy, I'll be happy. So, what were you thinking?"

"I would like for us to be married under the chuppah," she revealed softly. "It is a white canopy that we would stand under."

"We can do that," he agreed. "Anything else?"

"I am not sure," she confessed, starting to look a little lost.

"We don't have to decide everything tonight," he reassured her, laying his hand over hers again. She squeezed his fingers in gratitude for his ability to help steady her exactly when she needed it.

"You did get the message, though, right?" he asked, seemingly out of left field. "No red leather pants for me."

A light laugh bubbled out of her. "Got it," she assured him.

Their discussion paused while their dinners were served.

"Jackson called me again today," she related, continuing their conversation after the waiter had walked away. Her countenance was happy just thinking about her soon-to-be-father-in-law.

"He likes you better than me," Gibbs observed.

"He does not," Ziva denied.

"He's called you twice this week," Jethro pointed out. "That's two times more than he called me."

"It is just because you are the only person in the world who actually makes me look talkative," Ziva grinned, her eyes dancing merrily.

He smirked. She might be right about that.

"What did he want?" Gibbs asked.

"To see if we had decided what color tuxedo he should wear," Ziva divulged.

Jethro gave her a look that said _he called for that?_

"I am glad he is so excited," Ziva shared with a tiny smile.

Jethro's mouth kicked up faintly on one side and he squeezed her hand in acknowledgment.

"So what did you tell him?" Jethro asked.

"That we are thinking black, but no final decision yet," Ziva said. "We will have to decide soon, you know." He nodded.

"When are you and Abby going dress shopping?" he asked.

"Actually…" Ziva responded, "I would like to take McGee – at least at first."

Jethro looked at her in surprise.

"I know Abby wants to go and I would like her to," Ziva explained, "but I would like a chance to absorb some options and get an idea of what I want first, and Abby…"

"Gets excited," he finished.

Ziva nodded vigorously, looking adorably serious. "I love her, but I am afraid I will not be able to think." The right side of his mouth pulled up faintly in a ghost of his half-grin.

"McGee will be thoughtful, he pays attention to details – about people and things," she continued. Then she leaned in and whispered, "And he will be quiet!" They shared a low chuckle. "After I have some ideas, I want Abby to come, too, for the final decision on her dress and mine."

"So," he tried again. "When are you and McGee going dress shopping?" Now there was a sentence he never thought he'd say.

"I would like to go tomorrow for a while, just to look," she revealed, finishing up her dinner. "Do you mind?"

He shook his head with a small smile. She beamed, then her look became slightly dazed as she gazed into his face.

"We are getting married," she marveled in a hushed tone, part of her still working on believing that it was real.

"Got that right," he confirmed. Then holding out his hand to her he asked, "What do you say we practice the dancing part?"

The way her eyes lit up was all the thanks he'd ever need for making an effort with the details tonight.

She put her hand in his and led the way to the dance floor. The band had just started and a few other couples were on the floor, as well. There could have been five or fifty; they wouldn't have known the difference. Ziva and Gibbs only had eyes for each other.

Jethro rested his right hand on the small of her back and took her right hand in his other. Her left hand went up to his shoulder, then slid over to cup the back of his neck. He pressed their hands close to his chest, rather than holding them out in the more formal style.

"Do you realize this is the first time we have danced together?" Ziva asked, looking up at him.

"Mhm," Jethro acknowledged, a ghost of a smile playing about his mouth.

"It feels nice," she confessed, laying her head on his shoulder.

"It does," he agreed the smile becoming more pronounced as he pulled her in just a little closer.

The jazz was slow and sultry, almost sensual. Ziva and Gibbs danced to nearly every song the rest of the evening, only stopping to share dessert when the band took their first break. Resting comfortably in Jethro's arms as he led her around the floor, Ziva sighed in pure unadulterated bliss. She could not have imagined a more perfect night.

During the second set of music, the lights had dimmed, lending even more intimacy to the ambiance. At some point they had shifted so that both her arms were around his neck and his encircled her, hands centered low on her back. He looked down at her as they danced. Her head was resting against his shoulder with her eyes closed.

"I can feel you staring," she informed him without opening her eyes.

"Just enjoying the view," he returned.

"Mmmm…sexy _and_ smooth-talking," she observed in a seductive voice. "How is a woman supposed to resist?"

"Were you planning to resist me tonight?" he asked, nuzzling her neck.

"Well, it _is_ our first date," she pointed out, opening her eyes and lifting her head slightly to look into his face. "I do not want you to think I am sleazy."

"Easy."

Her eyes crinkled in confusion.

"The word is easy," he clarified.

"'Course," he said on further reflection, "sleazy works, too, I guess."

She shook her head, wondering if she'd ever get some of those American sayings right.

He gently lifted her eyes to his with one hand under her chin. "Not easy – or sleazy - waiting two years to be out with you like this. Worth it, but not easy."

Her slow, pleased smile pulled an answering one from him, then she tucked her forehead into his neck, snuggling in.

The band played one last song before taking their final break for the night. The singer's rich contralto voice was captivating.

_At last, my love has come along  
My lonely days are over  
And life is like a song  
Oh, yeah, at last_

"Jethro," Ziva whispered. "Listen to the words."

If she'd been looking at his face, she would have known he already was.

_The skies above are blue  
My heart was wrapped up in clovers  
The night I looked at you  
_

_I found a dream that I could speak to  
A dream that I can call my own  
I found a thrill to rest my cheek to  
A thrill that I have never known_

"I want this to be the first song we dance to at our reception," Ziva said softly, looking up at him hopefully.

"Good choice," he agreed in a low voice that sent delicious shivers down her spine. He bent down to kiss her softly but deeply, their lips clinging.

_Oh, yeah when you smile, you smile  
Oh, and then the spell was cast  
And here we are in heaven  
For you are mine  
At last_

As the song ended, Ziva pulled back and looked up at him with eyes shining with desire and bottomless emotion. The band still had one more set, but she was more than ready to be alone with this man.

"Jethro," she husked, "take me home…with you."

The deliberate, sexy smile that curved his lips told her he remembered that she'd uttered those exact words to him on their other first date two years ago.

"Always," he affirmed, the heat that built so readily between them showing in his gaze.

They left the dance floor with his hand resting on her hip. While he paid the bill, she went to the ladies room. He met her in the foyer, having just directed the valet to get the car.

He helped her in, closing the door behind her. Soon after they had cleared the driveway, they had to stop for a red light. Ziva leaned toward him, laying her hand on his chest.

"Thank you for remembering that I wanted to dance with you," she told him, lifting her hand to caress the side of his face with the back of her fingers adoringly as she conjured up the memory of when he'd told her they could go dancing if she wanted.

"You're welcome," he returned, pressing a kiss to her mouth. Taking her hand from his cheek he pressed a kiss there, too, then rested their linked hands on his chest as he started driving again. He, too, recalled their talk in the botanical garden a few months ago. In many ways, that conversation marked their turn down this road to their future.

"You deserved something like this two weeks ago," he said softly.

She realized he was talking about the night he'd asked her to marry him.

"Pull over," she directed in response.

He looked at her questioningly.

"Pull over, Jethro," she repeated, allowing a tiny smile. "Please."

Up ahead there was a quiet side street and Gibbs pulled onto it, over to the side. He turned to look at her as she unbuckled her seatbelt, then she reached over and turned off the engine. Pushing herself up to lean across the console that divided their seats, she cupped his face in her hands.

"Do not ever think you should have done anything differently the night you asked me to marry you," she said gently, but firmly. "Everything about it was perfect, from the night you chose, to the way you asked, to the ring you gave me. It was and always will be the happiest night of my life and I would not change a thing."

He looked into her eyes, relieved on some level that there was nothing reflected in her gaze but the truth of her words.

He raised a hand and brushed his thumb over her cheek, then captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Of one accord, their lips came together in a deep, loving kiss that said everything he couldn't.

When they'd pulled slightly apart, she grinned mischievously.

"Besides, given your brilliant decision to ask me at home, we did not have to drive there to begin the celebrating-in-bed part," she pointed out with a provocative lilt in her voice, laying any lingering doubt he had to rest.

He laughed, loving her more than he'd ever believed he would love anyone again.

"Good point," he noted, kissing her once more just because he could.

In short order, they were back on the road. The drive home included comfortable silences coupled with light conversation and all-too-brief kisses at the occasional stop. After he'd pulled into their driveway, he came around and opened her door, assisting her out. She stepped into him and slid her hand up to the back of his neck. Pulling him down, she captured his mouth in a kiss that had them both forgetting they were still in the driveway – until a neighbor's dog started barking and brought them back to reality. They pulled apart with identical sexy grins and headed into the house.

Jethro unlocked the door and opened it for her to walk in ahead of him. She got as far as the entrance from the foyer into the living room when she stopped dead in her tracks.

Sitting on the low coffee table in front of the couch was the most gorgeous arrangement of deep red roses she'd ever seen. There must have been a couple dozen flowers, and the greenery and baby's breath set them off to perfection.

Coming up behind her, he slid his hands around her waist and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.

"Jethro?" she whispered faintly, tilting her head to look up at him, staggered. "How - ?"

He just smiled.

"They are beautiful," she whispered. She pressed her hand against one of his, then used it to pull him with her to the bouquet. Leaning over for a moment, she touched one of the roses gently, almost reverently, with her fingertips, inhaling the divine fragrance.

"You already brought me flowers today," she pointed out in a voice shaky with emotion, looking at the bouquet of white roses that was still sitting on the side table by the couch.

Turning her to him, he slid one hand to her hip and cupped her cheek with the other, his fingers spearing into her hair. Tears sparkled like diamonds in her eyes.

"White for a first date," he explained with that half-smile that was uniquely his, "and red to say how much I love you."

All that love was on plain view in his eyes. Tomorrow she would discover that there were indeed two dozen roses, a dozen for each year they'd been together.

She closed her eyes for a moment and pressed her cheek into his hand. A tear spilled out of the corner of her eye and he caught it with his fingertip. Opening her eyes to look into his, she spoke.

"There are not words to tell you how much this night has meant to me…all that you planned, everything you did …" her voice broke and she stopped for a moment. "It is like you saw these dreams inside of me that I had not dared to dream in a very long time …" her voice broke again. "…and over the last two weeks you have made them all come true."

Lifting her hand to his face, she finished, "I wish I could do that for you."

"You have," he assured her, bending his head to kiss her. It started out softly, sweetly, gently clinging to each other's lips…mouths slowly opening, tongues searching, touching, tangling…breath coming faster, arms pressing the other closer…until only their need for oxygen could part them even for a moment.

"I love you more than you can even imagine," she managed through the last of her tears, leaning her forehead against his chin, "and you are _so_ getting lucky tonight."

With a sexy twinkle in his eye, he laughed out loud at the last, and she did, too. One of her favorite things about their relationship was how much they laughed together. She wiped her cheeks and raised her head to look into his eyes, radiating happiness. It just didn't get any better than this.

"Yeah?" he asked, grinning as their mouths inched closer, noses brushing lightly.

"Yeah," she confirmed, grinning right along with him, their mouths only a breath apart.

"Like the sound of that," he murmured, slanting his mouth over hers again. This time the heat flared quickly. Sliding his lips to her throat, he murmured, "Upstairs."

"Yes," she whispered, rising up on toes and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

Leaning back, she asked, "Can we take my flowers?"

"If you want," he said as the left side of his mouth lifted in his characteristic smile, tucking her hair behind her ear. She nodded almost shyly, an endearing smile curving her lips.

She picked up the white roses and he took the red. She turned off the living room lamp and led the way up the stairs.

"So who was your helper tonight?" she asked, enjoying the marvelous scent from the flowers as she turned down the hall to their room.

He waited as though debating whether to tell her. She glanced back at him and remembered where he'd gotten ready for their date. At the same moment, they both said, "Ducky." They shared an amused chuckle as they walked into their room.

Placing the vase of white roses on the dresser and directing Jethro to put the one he carried on her nightstand, Ziva admired both of them once again and walked over to bury her face in the red roses.

He reached for her and she turned, her arms coming up to loop around his neck.

"You," she said with emphasis and a quick kiss to his lips, "have a romantic streak in here, Special Agent Gibbs." She tapped his chest over his heart with one finger.

He looked dubious.

"If it's there, it's buried pretty deep," he confessed, "but something about you makes me want to find it."

She had been on a slow melt all evening, but at his words she went nearly boneless. She moved her lips toward his as he leaned in to kiss her again. To her surprise, he pulled back just before they touched.

"But you probably better not get used to it," he warned her, compelled to be completely honest.

She released a breathy laugh, and buried her face in his throat.

"I would not change a single thing about you," she whispered.

He tangled his fingers in her hair and tugged her head back so he could see her face.

"Know exactly what you mean," he said quietly, feeling like he was drowning in her whiskey brown eyes and having no wish to do anything else.

Then there was no more talking as they slowly divested each other of their evening clothes. He carried her to the bed and followed her down. All that could be heard the rest of the night were murmurs of endearment and gasps of pleasure as they lost themselves in what they created together.

* * *

_A/N: The song is "At Last" by Etta James, and I own nothing related to it, of course. There is a website on my profile for The Flower Expert related to another story, but you can also read about red and white roses there, if you like. As always, thanks for reading! =)_


	14. Something Blue

"I have to go to LA."

Her stomach sank at Jethro's words.

It was Sunday, less than one week before their wedding – Christmas day, in fact. Gibbs had located Ziva in the kitchen where she was putting the finishing touches on the desserts they were taking to Ducky's for their family dinner.

He had slipped up behind her and slid his hands onto her hips. Somewhat distractedly she'd leaned back into him for a second, acknowledging his welcome presence, then her focus had reverted to her task. After pressing a kiss to her head, he'd murmured those words against her hair.

He had her undivided attention now.

Slowly she laid down the spatula she was using to add a glaze to the gingerbread bundt cake and turned to face him, resting her hands on his chest. She tried to school her expression, but he could see the worry in her eyes.

"Why?" was all she asked at first.

"SecNav is getting hacked from the LA office; Callen is being set up to take the fall. Vance wants McGee and me to get to the bottom of it."

"But-" she stopped herself before she could say the words, looking away.

"I told him to send someone else," Gibbs informed her. Then he sighed. "Then Callen called from a burn phone. It's looking pretty bad for him."

He turned her gaze back to his by gently grasping her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"I'll be back in time," he promised her.

She closed her eyes against the anxiety she knew he would see there and laid her head on his chest. A tiny voice buried deep in her head whispered that she should have known everything had been going too smoothly. Her life just didn't get to be this happy.

With that uncanny ability he had to read her, he hugged her closer and said, "We are getting married and nothing is going to mess that up." She wanted to believe him; she really, really did.

"When do you leave?" she asked quietly.

"McGee's picking me up in an hour," he told her.

_So soon_ she thought.

"Well, we had better get you packed," she said bravely, starting to pull away to head upstairs. He held onto her.

"A Marine doesn't need an hour to pack," he murmured in her ear, "but we can definitely go upstairs." He nuzzled her neck suggestively, wanting her before he left.

Her response was immediate. She stretched up on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his lips to hers. Their kiss turned deep and needy in a heartbeat. He boosted her up so her legs could wrap around his waist and he carried her to their bedroom without releasing her mouth.

A wave of desperation washed over her. She couldn't get him undressed fast enough or press close enough to him.

Heat rose exponentially between them as their clothes hit the floor. Then she was wrapped around him once again as he carried her to the bed.

When she would have gone too fast, too frantically for her own body to keep up, he gentled her…readied her…loved her. Everything else fell away for both of them as they came together, completing them both in a way that still had the power to amaze them. Ziva held onto him for dear life as her release claimed her, a heartbeat before Jethro found his.

He collapsed against her, fighting for air. She cradled him close, wanting to hold him exactly like this for as long as possible.

Gradually their hearts slowed and breathing became easier. He lifted his chest from hers, slid his forearms underneath her shoulders, and cupped her head in his hands.

They couldn't help but smile for each other in the aftermath of their ultimate connection. She speared her fingers into his hair, drawing him slowly back down for soft, barely there kisses that spoke volumes without a single word.

"I love you," he told her, gazing into her expressive brown eyes.

"I love you back," she returned. "So much," she added in a whisper.

She sighed. "I do not want you to go," she admitted, "but I know you must."

"Don't want to go," he said on a breath of his own, "but…feels like I need to."

Of course it did, she thought. He could have refused if his friend was not at risk, but knowing that … it just wasn't in his makeup not to do something. And, truthfully, that was one of the things she loved about him.

"Come back as soon as you can?" she asked softly, uncaring that her request revealed her vulnerability.

"Count on it," he promised. Their lips met in another deep, heartfelt kiss.

When they'd pulled apart, she reached for courage and said, "Now, we had better pack your bag so you are ready when McGee gets here. The sooner you leave, the sooner you will be back, yes?" That earned her another brief kiss.

Reluctantly, they got up from the bed. She pulled her soft pants and top back on, while he grabbed a quick shower. She started packing for him.

When he came out of the shower, she reflected, "It appears Abby will get her wish after all." She was unable to keep the disappointment completely from her voice.

Abby had thoroughly researched Jewish wedding customs and was of the opinion that Ziva and Gibbs should observe the traditional week apart before the wedding, at least after work hours. Ziva had steadfastly refused to move out of their house for a week. However, she had agreed to spend the night before the wedding at Abby's. Her dress was there anyway, and she had to admit…there had been something exciting about building the anticipation of seeing him waiting for her under the chuppah.

"Not planning to be gone all week, Ziver," he denied. She just gave him a look.

There was a knock downstairs. Since finding out about the relationship between Gibbs and Ziva, the team only walked in unannounced if they'd been invited over.

"That will be McGee," Ziva observed, a slight catch in her throat. "I will let him in while you finish up."

He caught her close to press another kiss to her head before she left the room.

Ziva opened the front door to McGee.

"Hey, Ziva," he said, looking almost guilty, as though this were all his fault somehow.

"Hello, McGee," she returned softly. "Come in. Gibbs will be down in a moment."

After he'd walked into the living room, McGee spoke.

"Ziva, I-" he started, then broke off, not really sure what to say.

"Will you promise me two things, Tim?" Ziva asked, wandering over to stare out the window rather than look at him. She had one arm across her middle, while the other hand was sliding her Star of David charm on its chain in an attempt to soothe herself.

"Absolutely," he acknowledged, willing to do just about anything to erase even a bit of the sadness from his friend's eyes.

"Do all you can to get him back here before the wedding," she requested. Her voice was almost too soft to hear at first, then strengthened as she continued. "And make sure he eats actual food at least once a day so that he does not live on coffee."

He stepped to her and laid a companionable arm across her shoulders, pulling her in for a one-armed hug.

"The first one is a given," he told her. "The second one…can I just say I'll do my best?" He gave her a small grin.

She chuckled. "Good enough," she agreed, leaning her head against his shoulder.

They heard Jethro on the stairs and moved apart. McGee said a quick goodbye to Ziva and took Gibbs' bag out to the car.

Gibbs closed the door after the other agent. Turning to Ziva, he placed his hands on her waist and pulled her in flush with his body. Her arms slid around his chest to wrap around him.

"Tell Ducky I'm not just doing this to miss his turkey dinner," he attempted to joke.

She didn't answer.

He gave her a squeeze. "Ziver?" There was a pause. "You're still going to Ducky's." Instead of asking her, he was telling her.

She shrugged.

"He's counting on you to bring dessert," he reminded her, shamelessly playing the guilt card as he didn't want her sitting here alone all evening. "You don't want to let him down."

She still didn't answer.

He tilted her head up. "Promise me you'll go." He refused to let her drop her gaze until she agreed. She nodded.

They shared a soft kiss that said everything else they couldn't, and then he was gone.

* * *

"Good morning, Abby," Ziva called out on Monday morning, forcing a falsely upbeat tone into her voice as she walked into the forensics lab.

"Ziva! Have you heard anything from Gibbs and Timmy? Did they solve the case yet?" Abby's speech was particularly pressured in her worry.

"Not yet," Ziva said with a small smile, "but they have been gone less than a day and a great deal of that time was spent on a plane. They did, however, arrive safely."

"Ziva, what if it takes longer than Gibbs thinks? What if they can't solve it at all? What if-" Abby rambled until Ziva cut her off.

"Abby!" she said firmly but not unkindly.

The Israeli was holding a Caf-Pow! behind her back for bribery purposes. She sat it on the work station and put both hands on Abby's shoulders.

"Gibbs will be here if he has to steal a plane and force McGee to fly it," she declared. At least, that's what she kept telling herself.

"Wow, you sound sure," Abby marveled.

"I am," Ziva confirmed, ignoring the twinge of uncertainty she was attempting to bury. "Now…I have a favor to ask of you."

Abby caught sight of the sweet drink she loved and reached for it as she said, "OK, shoot."

Ziva grabbed the cup and said, "Uh-uh-uh…not until you say yes to my favor."

Abby looked shocked, then impressed with Ziva's tactics. "Playing hardball, huh? You must really want this favor."

Ziva gave her a little smile. Without further ado, she just came out with it.

"I want to get a tattoo – tonight, after work," Ziva revealed. "You are the best person to recommend someone and perhaps can even pull a few ropes to get me an appointment tonight."

"Strings," Abby said absently, her mind on Ziva's surprising request.

Ziva looked confused, then realized where she'd gone wrong with the idiom she'd used. However, she did not let her irritation with that distract her from the task at hand.

"The tattoo, Abby?" Ziva prompted her.

"What are you looking for?" Abby asked, sorting through tattoo artists in the rolodex of her brain.

"Something simple – just three initials," Ziva divulged.

Abby smirked. "Gee, wonder whose those could be?"

Ziva just raised her left eyebrow and then pulled her personal digital camera from her pocket. "The part that may be a little tricky is the color. I want this exact color."

She showed Abby the small viewing screen that was completely filled with the color blue – an amazing shade of blue, Abby noted.

"Nice," Abby agreed. "You definitely need Cyn," she added decisively.

"Sin?" Ziva asked, her face scrunched up in confusion.

"My friend Cyn," Abby explained, "as in Cynthia."

Ziva's countenance cleared.

"She's amazingly talented and a master with color," Abby noted. "You definitely need her. I'll give her a call in a bit; she works late so she's not in yet."

"Thank you, Abby," Ziva said warmly, handing over the drink she'd been holding hostage.

Abby looked at the camera thoughtfully as she sipped. "I've seen that color before somewhere," she mumbled around the straw. She adjusted the zoom until a picture appeared. Slowly Gibbs' eyes filled the screen, then the whole picture came into view. It was a close-up of a smiling Gibbs and happy Ziva, clearly from one of their weekend get-a-ways. "I knew I'd seen that color!"

She looked at Ziva approvingly. "Nice, Zi. Really, really nice."

Ziva's eyes twinkled as she inclined her head once in recognition of the compliment.

Abby was silent for a bit, clearly mulling something over. "You've never gotten a tattoo before, right?"

Ziva shook her head. "When I was doing undercover work in Mossad, it would not have been safe to do so, even if I had wanted to. Why?"

"Well…" Abby started. "They take a while to heal, and there are some things you really shouldn't do for a couple weeks, like swim, strenuous exercise…

"And you, Ziva David, are going to be on your honeymoon in Hawaii in less than a week," she pointed out. "I'm thinking swimming and _strenuous_ _activities_ will both be on the agenda – not necessarily in that order." She grinned knowingly while sucking down more of her addicting drink.

Pleasure softened Ziva's features at the mere thought of her honeymoon, followed by a flash of disappointment as Abby's words sunk in. "I did not know that," she admitted. "It is just that I have been thinking about it and with Jethro gone right now it seemed…oh, well." She shrugged. "Thank you anyway, Abby." She turned to go. She made it as far as the door when a loud thud met her ears, the sound of a cup hitting the counter.

"Wait!" Abby exclaimed. "What if she could do something a little different now and then you could get the permanent tattoo later?"

Ziva perked up. "What do you mean…?" she asked, walking back over to Abby.

"Cyn's been experimenting with this technique she developed herself to create tattoos on top of the skin. They're technically temporary, but last a really long time. She doesn't use henna, but it's kinda like that, only with ink as the base so she can get different colors…I'm not sure how she does that, but it's really –"

"Abby!" Ziva interrupted, bringing her friend back to the present conversation.

"Let me call her," Abby suggested, cutting to the chase, "and I'll get back to you, 'k?"

Ziva's smile was back. "Thank you, Abby," and she leaned in to place a kiss on her friend's cheek, not unlike the ones the scientist often received from Gibbs. This was not lost on Abby, whose heart melted a little. The changes in Ziva over the years sometimes astounded her.

Around noon, Ziva received a text from Abby. "We're good to go – meet me after work. ;)"

* * *

A couple days later, Gibbs and McGee were walking down a street in LA ostensibly following a lead, but actually looking for a place to talk without being overheard. They thought they had the culprit figured out – a new guy who'd suspiciously joined the janitorial staff recently through a temp agency – and now Tim was devising a trap of the technological variety.

Despite his focus and the seriousness of the case, thoughts of his fiancée were never far from Jethro's consciousness. As he walked, his conversation with Ziva last night wandered through Gibbs' mind, putting a faint smile on his face. She had been unable to sleep, so she'd started packing for both of them for their honeymoon trip. He'd told her he didn't need much – and neither did she.

"_No?" she asked. "And how do you figure that? We are going to be gone ten days."_

"_The plan is to get you naked as often as possible," he'd informed her, "so don't worry too much about clothes."_

_She'd given a sexy laugh and agreed that was a good plan._

McGee's voice brought him out of his reverie. Tim suggested that, since they were out, they should get some lunch before they returned to NCIS. He'd managed to get at least a sandwich into his boss once a day, but he wasn't sure that qualified as eating to Ziva. He hadn't, however, been able to get him to sit down to eat, let alone consume something that would take more than five minutes to wolf down.

The older agent let the suggestion about lunch go by without comment. Seemed like every time he turned around Tim was trying to get him to eat, Gibbs thought. It was damned irritating. All Jethro was interested in was solving the case, saving Callen's hide and getting the hell out of here. If Tim asked him one more time about food…

"That looks like a nice spot," Tim pointed to a café across the street. "Not too crowded either; should be able to get in and out."

Gibbs rounded on him.

"McGee! You got a tapeworm I don't know about? What is it with eating? !"

Tim was silent for a moment, then caved in the face of his boss' frustration. Ziva was scary, but she was more than two thousand miles away. Gibbs was scary, too, and he was standing right in front of him.

"Zivamademepromise," he mumbled, looking at his feet.

"What?" Gibbs asked in confusion. The only part of that he'd caught had been Ziva's name at the beginning.

Tim took a deep breath and let it out, resigned to whatever fate awaited him. Eyes shifted skyward, he repeated, "Ziva made me promise to make sure you ate real food at least once a day so that you didn't live on coffee."

Whatever reaction Tim was expecting, it wasn't the reaction he got. One side of Gibbs' mouth pulled up in that patented smile of his and he actually looked … pleased.

"She did, huh?" he asked softly, catching McGee's gaze.

"Uh, yeah, she did," Tim confirmed cautiously. Now it was his turn to look confused. "You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?" Gibbs asked reasonably, still with that silly-assed grin on his face.

"Well, I thought maybe you'd think I was trying to mother-hen you or something," Tim admitted.

"Did," Gibbs confirmed. "At first."

"But…now we're good?" Tim asked hopefully.

"We're good," Gibbs confirmed. "And if you let me stop in that jewelry store over there first, we might even sit down to eat at that café." He nodded his head at a shop just down the block. It had been in the back of Jethro's mind that he hadn't bought Ziva a wedding present yet. Shifting the case to the side for a moment, he decided now was the perfect time to actually look for something.

Upon entering, the men found that the shop wasn't large, but had a nice selection. The saleswoman greeted them in a friendly manner.

"How can I help you, gentleman?" she asked.

Gibbs looked at McGee, who got the hint.

"He's looking for a wedding gift for his fiancée," Tim explained, running interference as Jethro wandered off. "I think he needs to look around a little first."

The older woman was very understanding. It wasn't the first time she'd had a customer in this situation – or a taciturn one like the silver-haired man.

"No problem," she assured McGee. "I'll be right here if I can be of any assistance."

Gibbs had stopped in front of a particular case that held several different kinds of bracelets. He knew he didn't want a ring, was pretty sure he didn't want a necklace – after all, she rarely removed her Star of David pendant. Maybe a bracelet…but which one? He liked the slim ones that had diamonds; some also had colored stones alternating with the diamonds.

Tim stepped over. "Tennis bracelet," he commented. "Nice idea."

"Tennis bracelet?" Gibbs asked, the look on his face asking _what the hell's a tennis bracelet_?

"That's what these are called," Tim explained. When Gibbs still looked confused, Tim came back with, "I have no idea why."

Jethro shook his head and went back to looking. There was one that kept drawing his eye. It had alternating diamonds and sapphires and there were platinum pieces in the shape of X's interspaced with the stones. The size and spacing of the gems gave the overall appearance of an icy blue color rather than highlighting the deeper sapphire.

"What do you think of this one?" he asked McGee uncharacteristically.

McGee was shocked. "Me, Boss?" he asked incredulously.

"No, the other federal agent standing beside me," he snapped sarcastically.

Tim recovered quickly. "It's beautiful, unique," he said. "I think she'll love it.

"And, besides, it'll remind her of your eyes," he finished.

Gibbs looked at him like he'd grown two heads. He was pretty sure Tim was right, but how did he _know_ this stuff?

"Sorry, Boss," Tim stammered, feeling like he'd overstepped his bounds. "I'll just wait over here." He started to walk off, but Gibbs stopped him.

"You're fine, Tim," Gibbs said, not ungently.

The saleswoman had been watching discreetly and caught Gibbs' eye just as he looked up for her.

"Find something you like?" she asked with a smile as she walked over.

"This one," Gibbs pointed.

"Lovely choice," the woman said. She had the bracelet boxed and wrapped quickly, and they completed the sale in no time.

The men walked out the door onto the sidewalk as Jethro tucked his purchase into his coat pocket.

"Ziva says you notice things," Gibbs revealed suddenly to McGee, his eyes scanning the block instead of looking at his companion.

Then his head turned and he looked the younger man in the eye. "She's right." With a ghost of a smile, he finished with, "Thanks for the help."

Tim was pretty sure his shock was showing on his face, but he couldn't seem to do anything about it. "No problem," he said faintly.

"Now, let's stop at your cafe so my fiancée doesn't worry," Gibbs said, "and so she doesn't kick your ass." Now a full-blown smirk curved his mouth.

McGee grinned, too. "Thanks, Boss."

* * *

It was the end of shift on Thursday. Ziva was at her desk finishing up her report on the case she and Tony had solved over the last couple of days. This one had been pretty open and shut, an accidental death, but at least it had given her something to keep her mind occupied. Tony had gone down to bug Abby in her lab.

"Agent David?"

She looked up to find one of the security guards standing near her desk, a small package in his hand.

"Yes," she responded.

"This was just delivered for you by special courier. We ran it through the scanners; nothing suspicious showed up," the man said, holding the box out to her. It was simply addressed to her at NCIS; there was no return address.

"Where was the courier from?" she asked, taking the package, her face registering her puzzlement.

"His identification said he was a guest of the Israeli Embassy. I asked if he wanted to speak to you, but he said just to make sure you got this," the guard explained.

Her heart stuttered, then started pounding. The Israeli Embassy? She stared at the parcel as though it would reveal its contents if she just looked at it long enough.

"Agent David?" the man said, growing a little concerned. "Are you all right?"

His voice pulled Ziva out of her stupor.

"Yes, I am fine," she said in a low voice. "Thank you."

"No problem," he assured her and went back to his post.

Ziva looked at the package again, her stomach clenching. Well, there was only one way to find out what was in there, but she wasn't about to do that in the open squadroom.

Taking the box, she walked down a few hallways until she found a small, out-of-the-way conference room that was not in use. Entering, she locked the door behind her. She placed the package on the table and stared at it for a bit longer before gingerly pulling off the plain brown paper covering it. She removed the lid on the box underneath only to find another box – but this one made her heart leap into her throat.

With shaking fingers, she traced the design carved into the wood of the inner box. The last time she had seen this it had been sitting on her mother's dresser. In her mind's eye she was suddenly a child again asking her mother to tell her one more time about the earrings in the box just because she loved the look on her mother's face as she related the story of Ziva's father giving them to her as a wedding gift.

Her hand trembling, she removed the wooden box and placed it gently on the table. She opened the lid, blinking unsuccessfully at the tears that flooded her eyes. The earrings were still in there, cushioned in the deep blue velvet lining as they always had been. They were made of white gold covered in tiny diamonds. Each earring was formed by a diamond shape at the top that held the post that went into the ear lobe. From there it flared out into a pear shape that was open in the middle and had a teardrop sapphire dangling in the space. A small round pearl hung from the bottom. Ziva had never seen any other earrings like them and their elegance still took her breath away.

Wiping at her cheeks with one hand, she lifted them out with the other, missing her mother like she hadn't in years. She then noticed a piece of paper folded in the bottom of the box. She was almost afraid to open it, but forced herself to do so.

_Your mother always wanted you to have these for your wedding day ~ and so do I. _It was signed simply_ Your Father._

Ziva sobbed in earnest then, sliding down the wall to the floor still cradling the jewelry in one hand and clutching the note in the other. Bending her head forward to rest on her knees, she let the tears come, keenly feeling Jethro's absence more than ever. Her carefully maintained facade that had so far allowed her to make it through this week without him came crashing down.

She sat there long after her tears had stopped, losing track of the time. Her phone rang, shaking her out of her daze. She looked at the caller ID and nearly started crying again. It was Gibbs.

Trying to control her emotions, she laid down the earrings and the note and answered.

"Hey," said that voice she loved so much.

"Hey back," she smiled, her voice husky with feeling. She wiped at her cheeks as though he could see her.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly, but determinedly.

"How is the case coming?" she asked, side-stepping his question.

"Ziver."

"Please, Jethro," she whispered. "Just talk to me for a while. All right?"

There was a slight pause, then he released a breath with, "OK." Going back to her earlier question, he continued, "Got things figured out and McGee's got a trap set. Now we just need the bastard to trip it.

"How are things there? DiNozzo behaving himself?" he asked.

"For the most part," she said wryly, her voice getting stronger. "He said I made his ears bleed today, but I did not see any blood actually coming out."

"What did you say?" he asked in mock resignation.

She wrapped herself in indignation. "What makes you think I said something?"

"I know you – both of you," he pointed out. "He said something, then you said something back." She _humphed_ internally, but couldn't deny that he was right.

"Over lunch, Abby shared that she was not looking forward to going to the laundromat tonight, as she had so many clothes to wash. She and I decided that laundry must reproduce itself in the basket because there is always more than what there should be for one or two people." She stopped.

Because he knew it was helping her find her equilibrium, he encouraged, "Go on."

"Tony got this appalled look on his face and suddenly said to me, 'You wash Gibbs' underwear!' I simply said yes, and you wash mine. Then he said 'Well, that's kind of hot, but you washing his…that's just disgusting'." Her imitation of DiNozzo was spot on. She paused as she remembered her response to that, which caused a small chuckle to leave her throat.

He waited expectantly.

"Then I might have said that since I touch what is covered by your underwear on a delightfully regular basis, doing your laundry is immaterial, really. That is when he said I made his ears bleed," she confessed.

He snorted out a laugh, then said reprovingly, "Ziva."

"What? I did not say it loudly, and besides - he started it." She sounded all of ten years old, but at least there weren't tears in her voice anymore. After a moment of comfortable silence, he spoke again.

"Ready to tell me what had you upset when you answered the phone?" he asked quietly.

She sighed. "I received a package today," she started. "From my father."

He stiffened.

"What kind of package?" he asked, unable to keep the edge out of his voice.

"The earrings he gave to my mother on their wedding day," she informed him quietly.

Silence.

"That all that was in there?" he asked suspiciously.

"There was a note," she admitted.

"What did it say?" he asked. She told him.

"I do not know what to do," she whispered. "I love the idea of having this part of my mother with me when we get married…"

"Then wear them," he said firmly.

"I feel like I should call him or something, but…I …" Her voice trailed off.

"Did you invite him to the wedding?" Jethro asked.

"No," she answered. "I thought we had said all we needed to say when he showed up at our house that day."

Her tone dropped to a whisper again. "Now, I am not so sure."

"Do you want him to come?" he asked.

"I do not know," she admitted, sounding so forlorn that his heart ached.

"It's OK. You don't have to decide right this minute," he soothed her even as he was clenching his fist in anger at his future father-in-law.

"I miss you," she whispered.

"Miss you, too, babe," he responded.

"Babe?" she asked in a stronger voice. He could hear the smile in her voice.

"Just tryin' it out," he responded lightly. "What do you think?"

"I think I like it," Ziva admitted.

"Good to know," he returned.

There was a pause that wasn't uncomfortable, but the physical distance between them suddenly felt like it could be measured in lightyears.

"Jethro, it is Thursday," she whispered.

"I'll be there, Ziva."

"I know you _want_ to be here," she responded, her voice choked with tears again, "but not even you can control everything."

"I'll be there even if I have to hijack the red-eye tomorrow night and make McGee fly it," he advised her. She couldn't help but chuckle through her tears as he unknowingly echoed her words to Abby on Monday.

"Wouldn't be the first time I flew all night across the country to get to you," he reminded her in an intimate voice.

She smiled as she thought back to the time he'd come back from Mexico when she'd called him. He'd saved her job and possibly even her life. What they had eventually found together had then saved her soul.

"True," she husked.

"You OK?" he asked.

"I am fine," she returned, attempting to reassure them both.

"I love you, Ziver."

"I love you, too," she told him.

He promised to call her again as soon as he could. They said goodbye and hung up.

Gibbs needed to get back to the case, but he had a more pressing issue to take care of first. He pushed a speed dial number on his phone. Leon Vance answered.

"Yeah, Leon," Gibbs said with no patience for small talk. "I need Eli David's number."

"What's going on?" Vance deflected.

"Ziva got a package from him. She's upset and I have something to say to him."

There was silence on the other end.

"The number, Leon," Jethro pushed forcefully.

"Not sure that's my place," Leon advised him.

Gibbs lost control of his temper.

"Then give your _friend_ a message from me," he all but exploded at his director. "If he's messing with her, I'm coming after him. That's my place!"

"You sure you want to go there, Gibbs?" Leon asked. "He _is_ her father."

"Then he can damn well start acting like it," Jethro bit out.

Vance closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. After a silent sigh, he said, "I'll see what I can do."

"You do that, Leon," Gibbs snarked and hung up.

As he headed back to the team he was working with, he vowed silently to give this one more day. By tomorrow night he would be on a plane back to Ziva, even if he had to turn in his badge to do it.

* * *

Friday night found Ziva in the window seat in Abby's bedroom staring out into the night. Her arms were wrapped around her legs with her chin resting on her knees. Her friend was sound asleep on her makeshift bed on the couch; she'd insisted that the bride-to-be should have the bed. Both women had enjoyed relaxing spa treatments earlier as Abby's bridal gift to Ziva in place of the bachelorette party in which the prospective bride had had no interest. Abby had no longer been able to keep her eyes open and started snoring right in the middle of rambling about how it was a good thing they'd had the rehearsal last week to better accommodate the schedule of the judge who was presiding over the ceremony. Ziva didn't mind that Abby had fallen asleep; she'd been having trouble focusing on the conversation anyway.

It was nearly 11:30 p.m. Her wedding was less than twenty-four hours away and there were still more than two thousand miles between her and the man she loved more than her own life.

All week she'd repeated "He will be here" to herself like a mantra, but tonight it was hard to sense enough truth in those words to find any comfort in them.

She knew he would be back as soon as he could and that they would still get married. And she'd meant what she said when she'd told him all she really wanted was to be married to him; the details were less important. But, still…she wanted the wedding they'd planned for tomorrow.

Suddenly her phone rang. _Gibbs._

Her heart suddenly galloping, Ziva immediately answered. With three little words Ziva's world righted itself again and her mantra became reality.

"On my way."


	15. Here Comes the Bride

Ziva stared at herself in the mirror, almost unable to believe what she saw. A bride. A beautiful, glowing, happy-butterflies-dancing-in-her-stomach woman who was about to marry the man of her dreams…dreams that she'd only recently allowed herself to remember.

She was alone for the moment, as Abby had gone to check on the guys again before taking her place at the entrance to the Drawing Room in order to walk down the aisle before Ziva. Jackson would be coming to get her soon. It was almost time for the ceremony to begin and – _thank God_ – Jethro was at the other end of the hall getting ready, too.

Last night, she'd asked him to call her when he got to their house after the flight landed. He hadn't wanted to wake her, but she'd assured him she wouldn't really rest well until she knew he was home. The call came in the middle of the night, and she couldn't help but shake Abby awake to give her the good news. The Goth's still-half-asleep attack hug had nearly cracked her friend's ribs. Ziva then had fallen solidly asleep for the first time since Gibbs had left and had even managed to sleep a great deal of the morning away. A bouncy, excited Abby had brought her breakfast in bed and then they'd gone to a salon to have their hair done. A couple of hours ago, they'd arrived at the hotel in the limousine that Tony had arranged for them.

Every time she looked at her dress, Ziva fell in love with it all over again. She and McGee had indeed gone looking at wedding dresses that Sunday eight weeks ago. Ziva had discovered she liked the halter-style dresses best, and had even tried a few on in the third shop they visited. Without explanation, McGee had suddenly told her to call Abby. Right now. Though she had been a little confused, she had done as he directed, and the maid of honor had arrived in record time.

_Flashback…_

Ziva tried persistently but unsuccessfully to get McGee to show her what he'd obviously seen that had prompted his order to call Abby. They were both glad to see their favorite forensic scientist burst through the door of the shop in short order, moving as quickly as her stacked heels would allow her.

"What's wrong? Did something happen? Are you two all right?" Her anxiety at being summoned so quickly and mysteriously had Abby's speech running at breakneck speed.

"Everything's fine," McGee reassured her. "Ziva was just doing some looking at wedding dresses and I tagged along. I happened to spot one that I think you both should see."

Tim directed Ziva to stand over by the mirrors and close her eyes, and motioned for Abby to join him across the room. Ziva heard a gasp from Abby that was quickly smothered. The Israeli tried to peek, but McGee was having none of that. Her friends brought the dress over and held it in front of her.

"Look," Tim ordered softly.

She opened her eyes and her world narrowed to the vision in front of her.

"Ziva, you have to try it on," Abby breathed. That was all the urging she needed to do just that, and before long she was back in front of the mirror.

The dress was white satin with a ruffle that curved up from the bodice around her neck forming the halter, while the neckline dipped slightly between her breasts. The ruffle was soft, yet stood up to frame her neck and set off her face beautifully. There were pleated gathers under her breasts that pulled up toward the center of her chest to meet the ruffle. She was more than a little pleased to see that the fit actually gave her small frame a hint of cleavage. Her shoulders and upper back were left bare; a hidden zipper closed the dress into a slight V shape just above the middle of her back. The slim A-line skirt fell to the floor in an elegant sweep, gently flaring – not too narrow, not too wide. The slight train just brushed the floor, which was perfect. Ziva had no desire to wear a dress that she had to keep picking up just to walk in.

She was quite certain she'd never seen anything so beautiful, and the awe on her companions' faces told her they agreed.

The dress shop owner was a delightful woman who was completely enchanted with this group. Always prepared for just such an occasion, she brought out champagne and hors d'oeuvres to celebrate, and Abby called Tony to join in on the fun. Sharing this moment with these friends who had become her family created a memory that Ziva would always treasure.

_Back to the present…_

Coming out of her reverie, the bride checked her hair again in the mirror. She had decided to wear it swept up high with curls cascading down in back. The hairstylist had arranged it so the curls could be seen spilling around her crown and peeking out from the back of her head; she had also pulled a few loose tendrils around Ziva's face and neck for a flirty, yet romantic touch. The former assassin had never worn her hair like this, but she had to admit, it went perfectly with the dress. A few pearls and tiny sparkly white silk orchids were pinned strategically into her curls for an almost magical effect.

For the final touch, she added her mother's earrings with a slightly pounding heart.

The earrings made her think of the countless times she'd picked up the phone yesterday to call her father. The one time she'd actually dialed the number, the call had gone to voice mail.

"_Hello, Father. This is Ziva." _She'd paused to berate herself in her head; after all, she was the only person left to call him father. "_I…I just wanted to say … thank you for … for the package." _She'd stayed on the line for a few more seconds, but did not know what else to say, so she'd hung up. She'd held the phone to her forehead feeling awkward and dissatisfied about the call. She hadn't heard back from him, and couldn't decide whether to be disappointed or relieved about that. Either way, she was determined not to dwell on it today.

She looked around the lovely room she and Abby were using as a dressing area and allowed herself the pleasure of reliving the past two months in her mind. Somehow the time had managed to move at lightning speed and at a snail's pace simultaneously.

She and McGee had returned to the house after the surprisingly successful wedding dress outing, while Abby took said dress to her apartment so the groom wouldn't see it. Tim had readily agreed to help search for possible locations for the ceremony, and they decided there was no time like the present to begin. McGee asked several questions about what they were hoping for regarding size (not too large) and style (preferably something with character, not too modern or plain). Ziva shared her thought of a hotel where the guests could stay overnight if they wanted, especially since it would be New Year's Eve. McGee hit upon the idea of looking at small historic hotels in the area and three possibilities looked especially intriguing.

Jethro was in and out of the room, but as soon as he heard McGee read aloud that one place had previously been called the Soldiers', Sailors', Marines', and Airmen's Club, his own interest was snagged. For more than twenty years now, it had been named the Morrison-Clark Inn and it was located in DC. They did find a couple of other options in the capital and Annapolis, but Ziva and Gibbs both liked this one best.

She had been a little worried about finding a place for a wedding that was only a couple of months away, so she'd talked Jethro into going to look at it after work the next day to get a feel for it in person. She'd fallen in love with the hotel's Victorian-style charm and elegant furnishings. It was not large – only forty-odd guest rooms in all – but the more intimate feel was one of the things that she appreciated about it.

The concierge, Hector Castillo, was an engaging man who brought the words "dapper" and "solicitous" to mind. He'd informed them that there had been a reservation in place for some time for a private New Year's Eve party, but it had been cancelled the week before in order to move to a larger venue. He had been immediately captivated by this lovely young woman with the appealing smile and the nearly-silent older gentleman who clearly adored her. It had been his pleasure to tell them that the date was still available at that point, then he'd given them a full tour of the inn.

There were two rooms that could be used for the wedding and reception, though they weren't terribly large. However, they weren't planning for a big group, so these areas would work well for them. Ziva loved the dual marble fireplaces in the Drawing Room which Hector had suggested for the ceremony. The Garden Room could be set up with a few tables where they could have dinner and had enough room for a small dancing space, as well.

He'd also shown them a large guest room that continued the Victorian theme and was the most popular choice for a "honeymoon suite." The king-size Mansion bed with its tall, curved, ornate wooden headboard and carved newel posts dominated the space. The room also included a working fireplace, a balcony that looked out over the city, and a small sitting area. The attached bath managed to combine old world charm with modern features such as a large, raised tub with Jacuzzi jets. Ziva had practically danced as she moved around the room.

Hector had offered them a few minutes to discuss privately everything they'd seen. With a twinkle in his eye he'd said if they weren't down shortly he would assume they were booking the room for that night. Ziva had blushed, while Jethro smirked. With a wink, the concierge had left the room.

"_What do you think?" Gibbs asked her, although he could read on her face that this was the place._

"_I love it," she confessed._

"_Let's book it," he smiled. Her face simply beamed as she leapt into his arms._

They'd gone downstairs and signed a contract on the spot. For themselves, they reserved the room they'd seen; they also held a block of rooms for any of their guests that wanted to spend the night. Hector was advised that the wedding would be after sundown given that it was being held on a Saturday. Ziva was not including many Jewish wedding customs, but she did want to observe the tradition of waiting until after the sun had set on Shabbat.

Other details had fallen smoothly into place, as well. Ducky had been delighted to be asked to stand up with Jethro. Tony and Tim had agreed to usher. Tim had also volunteered to handle the music, and Tony had immediately assigned himself to assist with a snarky comment about McGee's ability to handle it without him.

Hector had proven to be invaluable. He'd connected Ziva with a florist and a photographer, and procured a chuppah from someplace, as well.

Abby and Ziva had returned to the shop in which they'd found Ziva's dress and had been excited to find one for Abby, as well. They'd selected a deep emerald green satin gown that brought out the color of Abby's eyes. It was a wrap-around style with a deep V neck and a jeweled snap that held the two sides together at the left side of her waist. The neckline continued seamlessly up to form a standing collar that framed her neck; the material then curved down just past her shoulders to form a hint of a sleeve. There was an attractive slit up to her knee on the left side as she walked.

On one of Ziva's visits to the hotel, the pastry chef had shyly offered to the concierge that he would be honored to create their wedding cake, and was immediately enamored with Ziva when she'd accepted in his native French. The two excitedly began discussing possible ideas right then and there.

A judge in Ducky's bridge club had gladly agreed to perform the ceremony. She also happened to be Jewish, which wasn't necessary, but felt like a nice touch.

Ziva didn't have to think twice about the flowers – she wanted red and white roses mingled together. Jethro had just smiled at the reference to the flowers he'd gotten her for their "first" date. Ziva looked at her bouquet now, catching her bottom lip in her teeth as she thought back to that magical evening. Amusement curved her lips as she remembered later that night, tangled in the sheets and around each other, when she'd admitted that he'd have gotten lucky without the flowers – but that she had really, really loved the flowers. He'd simply grinned, then proceeded to kiss her brainless again.

There had been stress this past week, of course, when he'd been in LA, but the only other hiccup had been about seven weeks ago when Ziva had been wrestling with finalizing the menu and invitations.

_Flashback…_

The invitations needed to be sent out soon, but a response card for choosing a meal for the sit-down dinner was necessary. Therefore, the entrée choices had to be chosen before the invitations could be printed. The real planning had only been in full swing about a week, but the number of details for even a fairly simple wedding was nearly dizzying. Ziva still wanted the New Year's Eve date, but she was feeling some pressure due to the short amount of planning time.

She found Gibbs in the basement with his boat. Carrying the notebook she'd started with various questions and plans, she launched into her dilemma. They had already decided that prime rib would be one choice, but now she was trying to choose one or two additional options from among several different chicken, fish, and vegetarian dishes. He kept working as she talked it through out loud. When she stopped, he answered, "Whatever you want is fine with me."

That had been his standard answer whenever she'd mentioned anything thus far. For some reason, her emotions got the better of her tonight and she'd snapped, "Well, since you apparently do not care one way or the other about all of these details, perhaps we should just cancel everything and stop at the nearest courthouse after work one day and be done with it."

With that she was moving quickly up the stairs and didn't stop until she reached their room. She was blinking back tears and didn't know whether to throw herself on their bed and have a good cry or go twenty rounds with a punching bag. True to form, she opted for the latter.

Jethro appeared in the doorway, leaning against the door jam with his hands in his pockets, watching as she threw a few items into a duffle bag.

"Going somewhere?" he asked.

"Gym," she answered succinctly.

"Sure you don't want to just punch me?" he asked wryly. "Save you the drive to the gym."

Maybe it was that gently teasing tone he used so often with her or the banked understanding in his eyes, but she found her mad quickly deflating in spite of herself.

She plunked down on their bed beside the partially-packed duffle. She leaned forward, placing her forearms on her knees clasping her hands. Eyes on the floor in front of her, she said, "I want all of this to feel important to you."

Her hands came up to hold her head as she shifted from being irritated with him to being frustrated with herself. "And, yes, I realize I am being stupidly emotional about it, but I cannot seem to help it."

He came over and sat beside her, running a tender hand along the curve of her back.

"Apparently there's a lot to decide and you've been doing all the heavy lifting," he pointed out. "Not surprising you're feeling sensitive."

He turned her eyes to his with a finger under her chin. "Getting married to you is important to me. Just because I'm flexible about some –" Ziva raised an eyebrow "- OK, most – of the details doesn't mean I don't care."

He rubbed his nose against hers. "This is the only wedding you're ever going to have, because I'm not letting go of you. So, I want you to have exactly what you want."

Ziva closed her eyes against the tears that threatened again. "I'm sor-"

He laid a finger over her lips. "Don't ever apologize for letting me know that you need something from me – even if it's weighing in on chicken versus fish." His blue eyes twinkled in earnest then and she chuckled as she wiped at the tears in the corners of her eyes.

He leaned back against the headboard and pulled her up to lay between his legs against his chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he told her, "As long as I get prime rib with a side of you," he leaned down to nuzzle her cheek, "and you get whatever you want, the rest of them can eat whatever Chef what's-his-name gives them, far as I'm concerned." He felt her smile against his chest. "But I'll help you decide if you want."

She nodded. "I want," she said softly.

"You know," Jethro reflected, "I've been through a wedding or two –"

"Or four," she injected archly. He smirked.

"All I've ever had to do was show up at the right place at the right time in the right clothes," he admitted.

"Even with Shannon?" she asked, surprised. He nodded.

"I was overseas during most of that planning," he admitted, "but her mother had definite ideas about how things should go, so not sure I'd have gotten a word in edgewise, even if I'd been stateside."

"I know the food is not that important," she said quietly, "but I want our wedding to be meaningful to both of us and I would like us to decide most things together."

"Get your notebook and let's see what we can do," he directed her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She looked up at him hopefully. "Really?"

"Really," he confirmed. Then he asked, with hope in his own eyes, "Don't suppose we could do it naked?"

She laughed. "We could, but I do not think we would get anything done."

"Oh, we'd get something done," he murmured pulling her up on a level with his mouth, "just not the menu."

She grinned until he kissed it off her face.

When she could form a coherent thought again, she suggested, "How about a drink to go along with my notebook for now and then we get naked later?"

"Sold," he agreed.

Ziva retrieved her notebook from where she'd practically thrown it onto the dresser, while Gibbs poured them a bourbon to share. They spent the rest of the evening cuddled together on the couch in their sitting room going through her notes. Prime rib, chicken Cordon Bleu, and vegetarian lasagna were chosen for the menu. They decided on the invitations, finalized the guest list, and even looked at tuxedos online. Rather than black, they opted for charcoal gray matched with a tie that had black, white, and silver stripes that angled down the front.

Later in bed Gibbs had been amply rewarded for his patient participation. Funny how that worked…she had been, too.

_And back to the present again…_

As she checked her makeup one last time, a quiet knock came at the door.

"Come in," she called.

Jackson walked in, all smiles. He took her hands and kissed her on the cheek.

"You sure do look beautiful, honey," he said.

"Thank you," she said, returning the kiss. "You are looking very sharp yourself."

"I think the show's about to start," he pointed out. "You ready?"

"I am more than ready," Ziva affirmed. "Let me get –"

A second knock interrupted her as she was about to reach for her bouquet.

She cast a surprised look at the door. She wasn't expecting anyone else. Jackson went to open it. Ziva couldn't see who was there, but Jack clearly didn't know the person as he asked, "Can I help you?" in a puzzled tone.

Then she heard his voice.

"I would like to speak to my daughter," Eli David said softly.

Jackson's eyes narrowed and he straightened to his full height.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Jackson responded, not opening the door any further.

"Perhaps you should allow Ziva to decide that," Eli responded, his tone carefully mild, yet unyielding.

Jack stared at him for a moment longer so that this interloper would know that he was not intimidated and that he was willing to stand between Ziva and the door for as long as necessary.

He turned slightly toward her. "Honey?" he asked softly.

Ziva was too stunned to say anything at first. She looked at Jackson a little helplessly.

"You don't have to let him in," Jackson assured her.

She closed her eyes, then opened them.

"It is all right," she acquiesced. "I will speak with him."

"You sure about that?" Gibbs' father asked. He didn't know the details of what had gone on between Ziva and this man, but he didn't have to work hard to imagine that it was all her father's fault. "Maybe I should get Leroy."

"I am sure," she said, "and not just yet."

Jackson turned back to the door and gave the visitor an admonishing look. Then he silently stood aside and opened the door further.

Eli walked in. He looked at his daughter and smiled. "Ziva," he said softly, but with feeling. "You look lovely. It gives me great pleasure to see your mother's earrings on you."

A lump formed in her throat. "Thank you again for sending them," she husked.

He inclined his head in response.

"Why are you here?" Ziva asked quietly.

"I thought I would walk my daughter down the aisle at her wedding," he admitted. He glanced at Jackson. "But it appears you have made other plans."

"Yes," Ziva confirmed.

"Surely it is a father's place to do that," Eli said. Both Ziva and Jackson stiffened at that; it had been a father's place to do plenty of other things, as well.

Jackson started to lay into him, but Ziva gentled him with a hand on his arm. Though there was a smile in her eyes just for him, he could see a hint of confusion swirling in their depths as she struggled to find her balance with this unexpected development. He wasn't about to cause her any pain or uncertainty on this day.

"Maybe he's right, honey," he assured her, squeezing the hand that was still on his arm, "though there's more to being a father than walking someone down the aisle." The last was directed at Eli with a level look.

"Jackson, no-" Ziva's voice was husky with the unshed tears that had turned her eyes to diamonds at his magnanimous gesture.

"I'll give you two a minute, but I'll be right outside if you need anything," he continued, looking at Ziva with nothing but love and acceptance in his eyes.

With a kiss to her forehead, Jackson started toward the door. A vision popped into Ziva's head and cautious hope breathed to life inside her that it might come true.

"Jackson," she stayed him with her voice. "I would like to talk to my father, but you will wait for us, yes?"

He seemed a little confused at her choice of words, but Jethro wasn't the only Gibbs who would do anything for her. "Sure, honey." And with that, he stepped out into the hall.

Ziva turned away from her father, fiddling with the hand mirror on the dressing table. Neither spoke at first, but the silence was pregnant with their unvoiced thoughts.

"When I was very young," Ziva began after a moment, as though telling a story, "I looked at Ima's earrings and imagined myself at my own wedding someday. I always pictured you and her walking with me toward the chuppah, and we were all so happy.

"I could never get a clear picture of the person I would marry; I know now that is because I had not yet met Jethro." She allowed a fleeting smile as she thought of him. Her face sobered and she continued.

"As I grew older, things changed. Ima died, you directed my focus on your vision, and I stopped picturing a future for myself based on such wishful thinking."

She walked to the window and looked out over the darkened garden area covered in snow that sparkled from the candles and white lights placed out there by the hotel staff. Now that the words were finally coming, she could not seem to stop.

"Then I came to America…and over time that changed me," she acknowledged. "Oh, at first, I resisted. To become soft like them? Pfft – 'not me,' I thought."

She paused.

"But I have come to realize that real strength can be gentle…and that love has a strength all its own.

"And Jethro? He is the gift I stopped dreaming I would ever receive. I would not change my life now for anything." She finally looked at him. "Or any_one_.

"I will not deny that a small part of that young girl still exists and wishes for her aba to love her exactly as she is…but she is afraid." _Had she really just admitted to this man that she feared something? Anything? _Then, reaching for her fiancé in her mind, she steadied herself.

"I want to have a relationship with you, but I do not want to be hurt. And I will not alter the woman I have become," she said clearly. "Jethro loves that woman and because he does, I have learned to, as well."

Eli had remained silent through what was without question the longest running, most revealing dialogue he'd ever heard from his daughter. When she seemed to have run out of words, he spoke.

"I am who I am and I will not apologize for that," Eli began less-than-auspiciously. "And while the director in me cannot help but wish you still followed orders without question, the father in me has always been proud of the daughter you were…and of this woman you have become."

Eli walked closer to his daughter. "I cannot change the past, but perhaps you will give me another chance to be the father you deserve."

A tear trailed silently down each of Ziva's cheeks in response to his words.

Sometimes life did indeed surprise you.

"I will undoubtedly make mistakes, and you may have to point out the error of my ways," he continued. Then, with dry amusement in his tone, he added, "If you do not, I am quite certain that your husband will."

Ziva's tears turned to light laughter that danced on the air between them. "I am sure you are correct," she confirmed.

Eli held out a hand. "So, Ziva, may I walk you down the aisle?"

She put her hand in his and squeezed his fingers.

"I want to say yes, but I have one condition," she temporized.

Eli raised an eyebrow as he waited for her to continue.

With a deep breath, Ziva shared her earlier vision. "Jackson accepted me into his family – into his heart - without question. I will not hurt him by pushing him aside because you have arrived. If he agrees, I would like you both to walk with me."

Eli was silent for a few seconds.

"As you wish," he agreed gently with an incline of his head.

Ziva's smile was brilliant.

Then he smiled as well, and for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, her father wrapped her in a warm embrace.

After a long moment, Eli held her at arm's length. "Now, we should get you to your wedding before your Special Agent Gibbs comes looking for you," Eli pointed out with a small smile.

"Give me a moment to fix my makeup and then I will be ready," Ziva said.

Eli walked to the door.

"Aba?" she called softly. He turned. "I am glad you are here."

"As am I, Zivaleh," he returned with a ghost of a smile.

After he'd left her alone, Ziva dabbed at her face with a tissue and quickly repaired her makeup. Then she took a deep breath and gazed into the mirror one last time. She was actually about to marry Jethro. Joy bubbled up inside her and she laughed out loud in pure happiness. And her father had come…another dream she had locked away had become a reality.

She met her father outside the room and took his arm. Her eyes found Jackson just down the hall, standing alone near the entrance to the Drawing Room. Abby had just walked in to take her place and the doors were closed in advance of Ziva's entrance. A few feet away, Ziva stopped, causing her father to do the same.

"Give me a moment?" she asked, glancing up at him. He nodded.

Walking the rest of the way to Jackson, she held out a hand and he took it.

"I have a favor to ask, but you must feel free to say no," she said with a slight curve to her lips. He cocked his head in question.

"Could he walk with us?" she asked, looking into the blue eyes that he'd bequeathed to his son.

He glanced at Eli involuntarily, who allowed a small smile.

"You don't need me-" Jackson started.

"You are wrong; I do need you," Ziva broke in to correct him, catching his gaze again. "I am hoping that both of my fathers will walk me down the aisle."

When he stayed silent, she squeezed his fingers meaningfully and, with a twinkle in her eye, played her ace in the hole. "And Jethro says I should have exactly what I want today."

"Well," Eli drawled as he stepped closer, "that would be enough to make me consent."

All three of them broke into grins, the lingering tension erased, at least for the moment.

"It _is_ your day – and we don't want Leroy on the warpath," Jackson agreed. Holding out his left arm, he asked, "Let's try this again. Ready?"

"I have never been more ready for anything in my life," Ziva declared firmly.

"Then we'd better get you in there before my son comes through that door," Jackson said, not really joking.

With that, each man grasped a door handle, and the double doors swung open.


	16. Bless the Broken Road

The doors to the Drawing Room swung open in tandem. The guests stood and turned to watch the bride enter. With the push of a couple of buttons, McGee orchestrated the flow of _The Wedding Song_ by Kenny G into Pachelbel's _Canon in D with Ocean Sounds._

At the front of the room, Gibbs had one foot forward as though he'd been about to walk down the aisle toward the doors. Ducky's hand was on his shoulder, apparently trying to hold the groom in place. Jackson was not surprised.

A faint hum of surprise rolled through the room at Eli's presence.

Jethro's piercing gaze focused on the trio as soon as the doors opened. His look landed on Eli first and he stiffened, eyes narrowed. His hard stare cut to his dad, clearly trying to decide if he should be furious with him at this turn of events. Jackson just smiled and patted the air slightly with his right hand in an attempt to reassure his son that all was well.

And then Gibbs' arresting blue eyes found the woman he loved and all else faded to the edges of his consciousness.

His heart stuttered, then started beating in double time. She was so stunningly beautiful he'd have forgotten to breathe if his lungs hadn't continued to do so automatically. She had eyes for no one but him and her gaze was confident, happy and in love. He was mesmerized.

A short aisle had been created by the placement of the chairs for their guests, with a section of seating on either side. The chuppah was set up in the front of the room between the dual fireplaces and a gas fire crackled merrily in both.

Outwardly, Ziva appeared the very picture of composure, but on the inside she was practically quivering with anticipation. She had to force herself not to run to Jethro and throw herself into his arms. Instead, she proceeded deliberately up the aisle, arm in arm with her two fathers.

When the three of them reached her groom at the edge of the canopy, Jackson gave Ziva a kiss on the cheek, squeezed his son's shoulder and took his seat in the front row. Gibbs held out his hand to this woman who held his heart. Without hesitation, she placed her hand in his. With a kiss to her forehead and a faint smile, Eli wordlessly released his daughter into her soon-to-be-husband's care and took a seat beside Jackson. With his patented smile for her alone, Jethro pulled Ziva more fully under the chuppah to stand close beside him.

Ziva's heart was filled near to bursting with joy. Suddenly, she handed her bouquet to Abby, who accepted it reflexively. Leaving her right hand in Jethro's left, she raised her other hand to his neck and pulled him down for a kiss that rocked his world.

After a few deliciously long seconds, Judge Elaine Kaplan leaned in close to them and pointed out good-naturedly, "Usually we save that part for the end."

Ziva and Gibbs grinned against each other's mouths, then pulled apart – just a little.

Eyes sparkling up at him with happy excitement, Ziva admitted, "I couldn't wait." Chuckles from the guests danced on the air.

"Finally! She used a contraction!" The chortles erupted into quiet laughter as Tony voiced his exaggerated relief. Even Jethro and Ziva were not immune. Gibbs pulled her in for a warm hug, tucking her under his chin, as they joined in the amusement.

It was an auspicious beginning to the rest of their lives together: surrounded by affectionate laughter and the friends and family who loved them both.

The judge began speaking and the small crowd quieted.

"Please be seated," she began, as Ziva took her bouquet back from Abby. "Ziva and Jethro would like to thank you all for celebrating this special day with them, and it is my pleasure to be here, as well."

The judge was a pleasant, friendly woman who'd known Ducky for a long time through their bridge club. She'd performed many weddings over the years, but she had developed a special affinity for Gibbs and Ziva from the moment she met them. One couldn't help but be captivated by the way these two fit together like two halves of a whole. She had the sense that they'd each lived through difficult – perhaps unspeakable - experiences that had left them scarred and even broken at times. Yet, the love each had found in the other had brought them both healing and peace and happiness. It was heart-warming to see.

Ziva and Gibbs had enjoyed getting to know Elaine Kaplan, as well, and felt very comfortable with her. The three of them had met on a couple of occasions so that she and they could learn a little more about each other and so they could get her input on the ceremony.

Elaine had encouraged them to consider including readings or songs that spoke to them, as a Jewish wedding was meant first and foremost to put the bride and groom front and center and celebrate the bond between them. There was plenty of room for creativity in conveying that. She was also clear that they should feel free to include any traditional wedding customs they wanted, but they should not feel bound to those, especially since the groom was not Jewish. Too, being an Israeli Jew was more of a cultural identity for Ziva that was spiritual at times, but not overtly religious.

Gibbs couldn't really care less about music or readings on some level, but he knew Ziva wanted to create something special and meaningful, and he wanted her to have no regrets about the day. While sharing their emotions publicly was not second-nature to either of them, marrying Jethro was the most important thing in Ziva's life and she wanted their wedding to reflect the love they had for each other. Plus, after two years of hiding, it was frankly liberating to claim their relationship out in the open, even if it meant displaying aspects of themselves that they normally only shared with each other.

Ziva had done a little research and then they'd had another evening session on their sitting room couch accompanied by a glass of bourbon and her laptop. They'd decided on a poem to include, the wording of their vows and some other aspects of the ceremony. The judge would share a brief message of her own, as well.

When Ziva had voiced a concern that some of the words might feel a little _too _revealing or "phoo-phooey" to Jethro, he'd assured her he was all right with the rest of the world knowing exactly what she meant to him. In fact, maybe they should add Special Agent Levine to the guest list, he'd smirked, making her laugh. Besides, he'd added, a Marine can handle anything once – even the mushy stuff.

There was a song Ziva had come across that seemed very fitting, but, as she'd shared with Abby, they weren't really sure how to include it without standing there awkwardly as it played. She somewhat reluctantly left it out, but was perfectly happy with their other plans.

The judge continued the ceremony, focusing her attention on the bride and groom. "Every marriage should be so fortunate as to start out as yours already has, with love and laughter in abundance. I hope you'll remember these words as you live out the rest of your lives as husband and wife.

"Treat yourselves and each other with respect, and remind yourselves often of what brought you together. Give the highest priority to the gentle care your obviously deep connection deserves.

"When frustration, difficulties and fear loom, as they do in all relationships at one time or another, remember to focus on what is right between you, not only on the part that seems wrong. In this way, you will ride out the storms when clouds hide the face of the sun in your lives – remembering that even if you lose sight of it for a moment, the sun is always there."

Ziva and Gibbs smiled at her, then at each other. Their hands squeezed together more tightly.

"Now, Ziva and Jethro, if you will take a seat and direct your attention this way, Abby, Tim, and Tony have a gift for you." She gestured toward two chairs a few steps away and then toward the side where Tony was removing a white covering from a large flat screen computer monitor perched on a cart that was skirted in more white.

The bride and groom threw a questioning look at Abby, who just gave them a mischievous, satisfied smile. They moved to the chairs that were waiting for them. Gibbs sat first and tugged Ziva down on his lap.

"I have my own seat right beside you," Ziva pointed out to him in a low voice, though she did not make a move to actually sit in it. One arm came up to drape along his shoulders.

"Too far away," Jethro mumbled, wrapping both arms around her waist and settling her in more firmly.

Tony pushed a button on the laptop that was on the cart and started the DVD the three friends had created. The strains of_ Bless the Broken Road _filtered out into the room and pictures of Gibbs and Ziva slowly faded charmingly across the screen. Suitable quotes about love and relationships were interspersed here and there with the photos. The couple was stunned.

The pictures included copies of all the ones displayed in their sitting room, as well as others that included the team. Abby had gone through her photos from the last couple of years with an eye toward looking for a connection between these two with the knowledge she had now. She'd been amazed at just how often the two of them were standing near enough to touch each other – and equally amazed that she'd never noticed. There were even moments captured on film where Gibbs' hands rested casually on Ziva's shoulders or one of them was glancing at the other with what could only be described as an intimate look.

Ziva cast her gaze over at Abby, staggered that her best friends had found a meaningful way to include the song that had spoken to Ziva's heart…and she was humbled by the caring so clearly communicated by their efforts. Tears filled her eyes as the two women shared a knowing smile, then Ziva turned her attention back to Jethro and the video.

While the three friends had really only been thinking of giving Ziva something she wanted, the greatest gift in sharing the photos was that now the progression of their relationship was out of hiding, as well. The family and friends present were provided with a window into the couple's private lives over the last couple of years, rather than only having the perspective of the last couple of months.

As the voice of Rascal Flatts carried the song through the room, Ziva and Gibbs watched the video, heads close together, occasionally whispering personal comments to each other or sharing a smile at various pictures. About halfway through the song, the words caught up with them and Ziva rested her forehead against Jethro's, their emotional connection on display for all to see.

_I think about the years I spent just passing through  
I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you  
But you just smile and take my hand  
You've been there you understand  
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true_

_Every long lost dream led me to where you are_  
_Others who broke my heart they were like Northern stars_  
_Pointing me on my way into your loving arms_  
_This much I know is true_  
_That God blessed the broken road_  
_That led me straight to you_

As the song ended, anyone who could lip-read saw Ziva sigh "I love you" and Gibbs say it back. There wasn't a dry eye in the room.

As the two of them returned to stand in front of the judge, Ziva blinked back tears and found Tim, Tony and Abby with her eyes, wordlessly communicating her gratitude. All three of them practically glowed.

"Jethro and Ziva, if you will please turn toward each other as I read these next words," Judge Kaplan directed. To the guests she offered, "This poem is called _I Promise _written by Dorothy R. Colgane.

"I promise to give you the best of myself  
and to ask of you no more than you can give.

"I promise to respect you as your own person  
and to realize that your interests, desires and needs  
are no less important than my own.

"I promise to share with you my time and my attention  
and to bring joy, strength, and imagination to our relationship.

"I promise to keep myself open to you,  
to let you see through the window of my world into my innermost  
fears and feelings, secrets and dreams.

"I promise to grow along with you,  
to be willing to face changes in order to keep our relationship  
alive and exciting.

"I promise to love you in good times and bad,  
with all I have to give and all I feel inside in the only way I know how.  
Completely and forever."

Ziva and Gibbs looked deeply into one another's eyes as Elaine recited the reading they'd chosen. In those moments, the others in the room faded away as they focused on the words and each other.

"And with that in mind," the judge continued, "do you, Jethro, take Ziva to be your wife?"

"I do," he answered firmly, that patented half-smile of his curving his mouth.

"Do you promise to love, cherish and protect her, whether in good fortune or in adversity, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," he repeated.

Judge Kaplan spoke to the bride.

"Do you, Ziva, take Jethro to be your husband?"

"I do," she responded softly, her voice husky with emotion.

"Do you promise to love, cherish and protect him, whether in good fortune or in adversity, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," she affirmed, never taking her eyes from Jethro's.

"May I please have the rings?" the judge asked, taking one from Abby and one from Ducky. Ziva handed her bouquet to Abby for the second time.

"Jethro, as you place this ring upon Ziva's finger, repeat after me," Judge Kaplan directed. "I give you this ring as a sign of my love and commitment." Jethro repeated the words as he slowly began sliding her wedding ring on Ziva's finger.

The judge continued, pausing appropriately to allow Gibbs to echo her words. "With all that I am and all that I have, I will honor and support you and be faithful to you. From this day forward, I will be your partner as you will be mine."

A happy tear spilled down Ziva's cheek as she looked at the ring now residing on her finger, then looked up at Jethro with her heart in her eyes. With a small smile, he gently wiped her tear with his thumb.

"Ziva, as you place this ring on Jethro's finger, repeat after me," the judge instructed.

Pushing his wedding ring on Jethro's finger, Ziva quoted the judge's words, "I give you this ring as a sign of my love and commitment."

The judge continued, pausing for Ziva to repeat the words.

"With all that I am and all that I have, I will honor and support you and be faithful to you. From this day forward, I will be your partner as you will be mine." Ziva's voice rang clear as she spoke her vows.

"With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife," Judge Kaplan finished happily. With a smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eye, she told Gibbs, "It's your turn now, Jethro; you may kiss your bride."

More chuckles filled the room. The bride and groom grinned at each other as Jethro cupped her cheek with one hand and rested the other on her waist, as her arms slid up around his neck. Their mouths came together in a slow, warm kiss that didn't end until Abby called out "Mazel Tov!" and tossed confetti she'd made from iridescent ribbon into the air to rain down on them.

The couple had decided not to include the traditional custom of the groom breaking a glass with his foot. Most interpretations of that ritual centered around remembering the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem or reminding all of the fragility of life and relationships. Ziva and Gibbs were well acquainted with the latter and already lived their lives doing all they could to keep their bond safe and protected.

Abby, however, had decided to adapt the cultural tradition, and all the guests repeated, "Mazel Tov!" It was the perfect touch.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Mr. and Mrs. Jethro and Ziva Gibbs," the judge announced. Ziva's laugh floated delicately on the air and that rare full-blown Gibbs grin curved his lips as they heard their names linked like that for the first time.

As the _Finale_ from Handel's _Water Music _began for the processional, Ziva retrieved her bridal bouquet from Abby. Gibbs looked at his favorite forensic scientist and murmured, "Cover for us." With a firm grip on his wife's hand, Jethro started purposely down the aisle.

Grasping his intention immediately, Ziva suggested in a whisper to Abby, "Yichud."

Abby's slight confusion cleared. "Of course – yichud!"

As Jethro and Ziva went through the doors into the hall, they could hear Abby's voice explaining about the Jewish wedding custom of the bride and groom having a short time of seclusion immediately following the ceremony. Unbeknownst to Gibbs, he was participating in an age-old tradition. All he knew is that he wanted his wife to himself before being surrounded by their friends and family.

"What's yichud?" Jethro asked without breaking stride as he briskly led them to the destination he had in mind. He'd only heard the very beginning of Abby's explanation.

Ziva told him and he smirked.

"Huh – maybe I'm a little Jewish after all," he speculated. Ziva chuckled.

Gibbs made short work of getting them to the room where he and Ducky had gotten dressed for the ceremony. Closing the door, he leaned against it and pulled Ziva to him. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her passionately, pouring everything he felt into it … from missing her all week to the emotion engendered by finally having her as his wife. She blindly laid her bouquet on a nearby table and melted into him, having absolutely no desire to be anywhere else.

When they finally came up for air, Ziva stroked his cheek with her fingers. "Welcome home, Special Agent Gibbs," she murmured in an intimate tone.

"Good to be home, Mrs. Special Agent Gibbs," he returned, loving the way her eyes lit up at his words.

"Say that again," she appealed to him in a whisper, wonder in her eyes. He obliged and she had to kiss him one more time. He wasn't complaining.

This time when their lips parted, Ziva tucked her forehead into his neck. "I cannot quite believe it is real. I was a little afraid something would happen in the middle that would stop everything," she admitted softly.

"You really think I'd have let that happen?" he asked, arrogance lacing his tone.

She smiled at his confidence, but didn't answer. She just snuggled in more tightly as he gazed down at her.

"Don't have the words to say just how beautiful you look," Jethro told her quietly, running his hands up and down her back to mold her even more closely to him.

"I am glad you like the dress," she smiled.

"Talking about what's in the dress," he corrected her, "but the dress is nice, too."

Her lips curved as she met him halfway for another kiss until their need for oxygen drove them to simply hold each other, grateful beyond words to have the other near enough to touch again after almost a week apart.

"So, Eli showed," Jethro stated the obvious. "You OK?"

She nodded. "I had no idea he was coming. I left a message thanking him for sending the earrings, but I did not hear back from him. We actually had a good talk; I will tell you about it later," she revealed. "And your father was wonderful."

Jethro laid his head against hers as he made a mental note to get Jack's perspective on what had transpired with Eli. But the fact that she wasn't upset about it went a long way toward keeping him calm.

Raising his head, he reached for her hands. "Let's put this back where it belongs," he suggested, his thumb rubbing her engagement ring on her right ring finger where she'd placed it for the ceremony.

Traditional Jewish brides didn't wear jewelry other than the wedding band they received under the chuppah, but, taking Judge Kaplan's words to heart, she had done as she wanted and worn her mother's earrings and her engagement ring as she had wanted both close to her.

With a smile and a nod, she straightened out her fingers. Jethro slid her diamond ring from her right hand and placed it on her left above her wedding band. His look of possessive satisfaction once he'd accomplished the task made her grin inwardly.

"Brought you something," he said suddenly. With a squeeze of her hands, he let go of her just long enough to pull a slender rectangular box from his overnight bag.

Turning back, he handed it to her, then wrapped his arms around her waist again. God, it felt good to hold her. His arms had seemed empty all week.

The sales clerk from the jewelry store had wrapped the box attractively. Ziva peeled off the paper and opened the box. Her eyes widened as she took in the lovely bracelet.

"Jethro," she breathed appreciatively. Looking up at him, she whispered, "It is gorgeous."

She took it out of the box and he helped her fasten it onto her wrist. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she said, "Thank you. I love it – especially because it is blue like your eyes."

Gibbs smirked. Chalk another one up for McGee.

Ziva pulled his lips to hers for a kiss that had his pulse jumping.

When she released his mouth, she informed him in a throaty voice, "I have a wedding gift for you, too, but you have to undress me to find it." The gleam in her eyes managed to be both teasing and sexy.

"Mmmmm…" Gibbs murmured, running his hands over her appreciatively. "Can I start now?"

She laughed. "I believe our guests are expecting us. Would you take a rain check for a couple of hours?"

"If I have to," he pretended to grouse as he nuzzled her neck.

"Speaking of our guests, the sooner we join them, the sooner we can get away for our private party," Ziva pointed out in a suggestive tone, though she made no move to step away from him just yet.

"Good point," he agreed, dropping a kiss to her lips. "After you, Mrs. Gibbs."

* * *

_A/N: We have two more chapters, but this chapter is really the culmination of where this story has been headed and I hope you think I've done it justice. Personally, it makes my fluffy heart VERY happy. :D It turned out to be a little different - and more detailed - than I had originally thought it would be. The judge's words near the beginning of the ceremony are based on "An Apache Blessing." I have put links to the four songs referenced in the story on my profile, in case you'd like to hear them. Reviews are appreciated more than you know. Thanks so much for reading!_


	17. At Last

The wedding guests gathered in the Garden Room following the ceremony. More red and white roses adorned the space. The heavy drapes were opened to reveal the lovely view of the courtyard garden. The ground was covered in a blanket of snow that sparkled from the white lights and fat candles placed about, lending an almost magical air to the scene.

Abby directed the group to enjoy the appetizers they found waiting for them, then to search out their names for the dinner seating.

There were three round tables arranged in a slight inverted V shape. Gibbs and Ziva would be sitting at the middle table, joined by Jackson, Ducky, Fornell, and Judge Kaplan. Another table was set up for Abby, Tim, Tony, Palmer and Breena, and Damon; the third table would hold Leon and Jackie Vance and their children, as well as Mike Franks, his daughter-in-law, Leyla, and his granddaughter, Amira.

Tony pulled the concierge to the side and advised him they had a couple of unexpected guests. In addition to Eli, Callen had come. He'd been restless and ready for more than a little space between him and LA after the recent case, so Gibbs had invited him to fly back with him and McGee for the wedding. Callen would stay at Ziva & Jethro's house while they were on their honeymoon in Hawaii.

Hector assured Tony he would take care of the extra place settings and would speak to the chef about the food.

Tony decided Callen would sit at the table with the team; a place setting for Eli was added to the head table as it seemed insulting to do anything else, though Tony had some misgivings about putting Gibbs and Eli at the same table. Ziva's place was already arranged between the two Gibbs men; rather than change that, Tony put Eli on Jackson's right, so there was an extra buffer between Ziva's father and the newly married couple. Fornell would be on Eli's other side and the Mossad director's chair backed up near Vance's, who would be sitting at the next table.

In the interest of maintaining the delicate truce that seemed to be in play at the moment between Ziva, Gibbs and Eli, Tony figured it was best not to overtly slight Ziva's father with the seating arrangements. However, that didn't mean he had to be stupid about it.

Fortunately, the chef had extra of all three entrees, as Ziva had ordered additional food prepared so that the staff working that holiday night could also enjoy a meal at their convenience. After all, some of them were only working because extra help was needed for their event. Even with two unforeseen additions, there was plenty. Hector secured Callen and Eli's dinner choices with minimal fuss.

The bride and groom appeared in the doorway to the Garden Room, arms wrapped around each other's waists. Happiness practically radiated off them in waves.

Abby noticed them immediately, of course, and led the group in a round of applause and whistles for the blissful couple. Ziva pressed closer to Gibbs as they smiled at their friends and family.

The maid of honor quickly took charge.

"We need to snap a few wedding photos, then dinner will be served," she informed the group as the photographer stepped near Jethro and Ziva. "In the meantime, keep mingling and munching," she ordered with an imperious wave of her hand, though her sparkling smile assured that no one would take offense.

The photographer had unobtrusively snapped some pictures during the wedding. In addition to the arrival of the groom and Ducky, Abby, then Ziva and the fathers, she'd caught Ziva's impetuous kiss, the sweet moments during the video where Ziva had rested her forehead against Jethro's while seated on his lap, and the final kiss. She couldn't wait to print those out, certain they would be some of the loveliest photos she'd ever taken.

Without being told, the photographer knew that Gibbs was not the kind of man to want a lot of fuss with this part, so she herded the bride and groom, Ducky, Abby, Tim, Tony, the judge, and the dads back to the Drawing Room where she worked efficiently but creatively to capture them in various groupings and poses.

They returned to the Garden Room where Ziva and Gibbs spoke briefly to each guest, exchanging hugs and hand-shakes as appropriate. Callen pressed a kiss to Ziva's cheek and offered his congratulations. He hoped she didn't mind that he'd crashed the wedding and also thanked her for sparing Gibbs the past week. She assured him she was glad he was there and that they'd gotten to the bottom of things – _before_ the wedding, she'd added with a wink.

Before Gibbs could direct Tony to arrange a seat and a meal for Eli and Callen, his senior agent informed him he was already on it. Jethro wordlessly squeezed his shoulder in thanks.

Everyone found their seats and the serving began. Dinner was both enjoyable and delicious. At one point, Jackie started tapping her spoon on her water glass. With expectant grins, most of the others quickly joined in.

Ziva's eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion. She looked around the room, then at Jethro.

"What are they doing?" she whispered to her husband, leaning in close to him.

"Tapping their glasses," he answered with his characteristic half-smile.

She gave him a look that clearly communicated that he should tell her something she didn't already know_._

"Obviously," she noted succinctly. "But why?"

"Every time they do that, we're supposed to kiss," he informed her from his position of experience. After all, this wasn't his first rodeo.

Her look of confusion transformed into one of delight.

"Do you think we can get them to do that a lot?" she grinned up at him.

"I'll see what I can do," he promised with an answering smirk, then proceeded to kiss her brainless.

"Maybe they should be careful with that tapping," she observed breathlessly when he had raised his head and she could put a coherent thought together, "or we will not make it through dinner."

He laughed out loud, causing more than a few people to drop their jaws in surprise. Many in the room had never heard that particular sound come from that particular man.

When dinner was over, it was time to cut the cake. The pastry chef wheeled out the wedding cake with unmistakable - and befitting - pride. He had created a masterpiece. A ribbon of white frosting that looked exactly like the ruffle on Ziva's wedding dress spiraled down, encircling the three tiers. Fresh red and white roses were placed strategically on and around the cake for a beautiful effect. An open crystal heart stood in sparkling elegance on the top, surrounded by more roses.

The top and bottom layers were a rich chocolate cake, as that was Ziva's favorite. The middle layer was the more conventional white cake, though it had been split into two smaller layers separated by a raspberry crème filling. The chef had managed to introduce a lovely tint of silvery-gray to the white buttercream icing that covered all three layers, adding another touch of elegance and setting off the ribbon of white frosting and the roses to perfection.

Ziva and Jethro cut the first piece traditionally, with him pressed close behind her and her hand over his on the knife. They even fed each other the first bite, though Ziva kept waiting for him to pull some kind of trick on her. To her surprise, he was very sedate in offering her a bite – then he swiped his finger through the icing on their piece and quick as a wink had it painted across her bottom lip just so he could capture her mouth and clean it off. She laughed and he grinned through the whole kiss. Their enjoyment spilled over onto their guests, especially when she returned the favor.

The staff served everyone a piece of the cake, while Gibbs and Ziva stopped to talk with the guests at the other two tables. After a short while, McGee caught Ziva's eye. He looked toward the music station he had set up in the corner, then back at her with raised eyebrows. Ziva had no use for the customs of tossing a bouquet and a garter, which suited Gibbs just fine, but they were going to share the first dance alone. She tugged at Jethro's hand which she'd been holding since the cake-cutting and whispered in his ear. With his patented half-smile, he nodded; she passed the go-ahead on to McGee.

Tony joined Tim at the music table and announced that it was time for the bride and groom's first dance and made a crack that he hoped the rumor that Ziva had worn steel-toed wedding shoes was true. Chuckles ran through the crowd, while Gibbs managed to throw a visual version of a head-slap DiNozzo's way.

Ziva grinned as she led Jethro to the dancing area.

"Come on, husband," she directed. "You can show him that no steel-toed shoes are necessary."

As the strains of "At Last" began, Jethro pulled her into his arms. His right hand rested at her waist while he captured hers with his left and tucked it in close to his heart. Her left hand smoothed up to rest against the back of his neck. The others faded to the background as they lost themselves in the music, both thinking of the first night they had danced to this song.

"Remember when I said that the night you asked me to marry you would always be the happiest night of my life?" she asked in a quiet voice, gazing up into his face.

"Mhm," he assented, waiting to see where she was going with this.

"This is a really, really close second," she beamed happily, her gorgeous brown eyes twinkling.

His patented half-smile tugged up the left side of his mouth as he moved her easily around the dance floor. "You sure this doesn't beat that night? This is a lot fancier."

"I do not need fancy; only you," she told him, moving her left hand to caress his cheek. "I love having the people closest to us here for this, but that night was just about you and me and forever. Nothing can surpass that."

He raised her hand to his lips in appreciation.

"Besides, without the question, we would not be here, yes?" she pointed out lightheartedly. "So it deserves a place of honor at the top of the list."

"True enough," he agreed. "Where does our second first date fit on this list of yours?"

"It is tied for third place with our actual first date," she answered without hesitation.

"Giovanni's is on par with the jazz club?" he asked, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"Definitely," she confirmed. "Although, to be honest, the tie has more to do with you than the places we went."

"Now who's sexy and smooth-talking?" he murmured into her ear. Delight lit her features as he repeated the words she'd said to him at the jazz club. She brushed her lips against his neck with a secretive smile that hinted at the private moments they were reliving.

"Could you tell how nervous I was on our actual first date?" she asked after a bit, looking up at him curiously, a suggestion of self-deprecating humor in her eyes.

"You were nervous?" he asked, clearly surprised. "Even after being the one to make the first move?"

"Oh, yes," she admitted. "My stomach was so fluttery it is a wonder I could eat."

He reflected on that for a moment, then came clean with a secret of his own.

"Mine, too," he confided.

She was so astonished she'd have been the one to step on his feet if he hadn't guided her so adroitly.

"Why were _you_ nervous?" she asked, amazed.

"Why were you?" he returned.

"You are Gibbs," she answered with a movement of her hand, as though that explained everything.

"So?" he asked.

"So? !" she retorted in a gently exasperated tone. "You are practically a legend. You are strong, smart, frighteningly capable, unbelievably sexy…I could go on."

He shook his head. "Sounds more like you. I was just a guy who hoped you really wanted him half as much as he wanted you…even though you had every reason not to."

And once more, her heart simply melted. She hoped it never stopped.

"There you go again," she whispered, her voice husky with emotion.

He gave her a perplexed look.

"Saying the perfect thing," she clarified. She pulled his face down to nuzzle against him intimately, then tucked her face into his throat.

He brushed his lips across her temple and they finished out the dance, content to just quietly hold each other.

The guests were nearly mesmerized as they watched the two of them together. Tony and Abby stood side-by-side, as enthralled as everyone else.

"Look at them, Tony," Abby directed in a soft voice. "How did we miss that?"

"Only because they wanted us to, Abbs," he responded quietly.

"They're perfect for each other," Abby whispered.

Tony silently agreed, then went back to his announcer duties at the music table.

The song ended and Jethro pressed a brief kiss to Ziva's mouth.

"Well, turns out Gibbs can add 'good dancer' to his resume – who'da guessed?" Tony snarked, ignoring the look he received from the groom. "How about a round of applause for the happy couple, folks?"

After the guests had complied, Tony continued his antics. "And, as if dancing with one blue-eyed Gibbs wasn't enough, our lovely bride is fortunate enough to have another one waiting in the wings. Jackson? Come on down."

Holding hands, the couple walked toward the elder Gibbs. After giving Jethro's hand an extra squeeze, she released it and held out her other hand to her father-in-law. In the back of her mind she spared a brief, nervous thought to wonder what she would do about dancing with her own father, but she refused to let it truly take hold. Nothing was going to ruin this moment with Jackson; he was special to her and she wanted him to know it.

As the song she'd chosen started to play, she took his hand with a smile.

His feet stayed put for a moment.

"You sure you want me to be next?" he asked dubiously.

"I am sure," she replied firmly. "I chose this song just for you."

They moved onto the dance floor and into the conventional embrace. They were comfortable with each other and neither felt the need to speak at first. Then, Ziva asked him softly, "Are you listening to the words?"

_It's a long road when you face the world alone;  
No one reaches out a hand for you to hold.  
You can find love if you search within yourself  
and the emptiness you felt will disappear._

_And then a hero comes along_  
_with the strength to carry on_  
_and you cast your fears aside_  
_and you know you can survive._

_So, when you feel like hope is gone_  
_look inside you and be strong_  
_and you'll finally see the truth_  
_that a hero lies in you._

He nodded, but confusion was evident on his face.

"I am not exactly sure what the singer meant to say with this song," Ziva began to explain, "but when I listen to the words, I think of you."

"I'm nobody's hero, honey," he denied.

"You are mine," she corrected him, love and trust shining out of her eyes just for him.

He shook his head, but pulled her in a little closer, resting his chin on the top of her head. His heart was too full to speak.

As the song neared its end, Ziva spoke quietly and sincerely into Jackson's ear, "Thank you for being the father I have needed." Her oblique reference to their conversation in his kitchen two months ago was not lost on him.

With tears in his eyes, he hugged her close.

"You know…you could call me Dad," he offered almost shyly, "if you want."

"I would like that very much," Ziva husked past the lump in her throat, unshed tears of her own turning her eyes to diamonds as she looked at him.

The brightness of both their smiles could have lit the room and then some.

Meanwhile, Gibbs stood at the edge of the dance floor watching his wife dance with his father. Though he didn't turn, he felt Eli's presence as the older man stepped up beside him.

"So, Special Agent Gibbs," the Israeli began, "though perhaps I may call you Jethro now that you are married to my daughter - ?"

Gibbs smirked, then finally turned his head toward his father-in-law and leveled a look directly into the other man's eyes.

"Sure," he granted. "Eli." His tone somehow managed to be flat yet dripping with sarcasm at the same time.

The director acknowledged the loaded reply with a brief tilt of his head.

"I received your message this week," Eli continued almost conversationally, his eyes resting on Ziva and Jackson in a seemingly relaxed manner. "You are certain you wish to threaten the director of a powerful secret intelligence agency?" His tone stayed as even as if he were discussing the weather.

"I'm certain I'll threaten anyone who even thinks about hurting her," Gibbs fired back, not quite as calm about the situation.

"Duly noted," David offered, secretly pleased that this man was not afraid of him. Perhaps the agent was worthy of his Ziva after all. Maybe.

As the current song was coming to an end, Eli revealed, "I believe I will see if my daughter has a dance for me…if you have no objections?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

"Not as long as she doesn't," Jethro replied, "and as long as you remember the message."

Eli smirked. He started to step away, then turned back with a finger raised in the air for emphasis.

"It so happens I have a message for you, as well," he informed his son-in-law in a voice meant for his ears only. Despite Ziva's warning from a few weeks ago, he leaned in close and advised Gibbs, "Treat her better than I have or they will never find your body."

Something akin to approval flared momentarily in Jethro's eyes as Eli walked out to intercept his daughter without looking back.

As her father stepped onto the dance floor, Gibbs threw a speaking glance at McGee. Tim gave him a thumbs-up to say he had it covered. He'd started searching for an appropriate song as soon as Gibbs and Ziva had taken to the floor with their opening dance, just to be on the safe side. Tony had no idea what to say into the mic about this situation, so for once he kept his mouth shut.

As Jackson and Ziva as neared the edge of the dancing area, her father stepped up to them. With a small smile, he questioned, "May I have the honor of the next dance, Ziva?"

Jackson kept a protective arm around his daughter-in-law, and looked at his son. The younger Gibbs nodded almost imperceptibly, so Jackson turned his attention to Ziva.

With a look that was almost shy, she nodded. After pressing a kiss to Jackson's cheek, she removed her arm from his waist and, for the first time in her life, moved into her father's arms on a dance floor.

_Oh, God _– _the music_ she thought. Her slightly panicked whiskey-brown eyes found McGee, who smiled reassuringly. With the press of a button, he sent the voice of Elton John into the room.

The two began dancing, but Ziva felt uncharacteristically stiff and a little unsure. Her eyes were staring unseeingly somewhere beyond his shoulder.

"Relax, Ziva," her father murmured. "I am not likely to trip you. This is not the first time I have danced."

After a pause, she looked up at him with eyes that were both vulnerable and on guard.

"But it is the first time you have danced with me," she pointed out quietly.

He looked a little surprised, then realized she spoke the truth.

"Then I am long overdue for correcting that oversight, yes?" he observed with a small smile, though he allowed her to see the hint of regret in his eyes.

Finally, she relaxed.

"Yes, you are," she replied crisply, a small smile of her own hovering about her lips.

They danced quietly until the words of the song resonated between them.

_And can you feel the love tonight?_

_It is where we are_

_It's enough for this wide-eyed wanderer_

_That we got this far_

_And can you feel the love tonight_

_How it's laid to rest?_

_It's enough to make kings and vagabonds_

_Believe the very best…_

"These people…" Eli spoke again at last, "they care for you very much."

She nodded.

"I am glad," he said simply.

They danced the rest of the song in silence. As it ended, Eli cupped Ziva's face in both his hands and looked at her…really looked at her...seemingly oblivious to their audience.

"They are not the only ones who love you," he said quietly in Hebrew, then pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. She closed her eyes, but a single tear escaped to start down her cheek. He caught it with his thumb.

"Shhh now…I cannot take you back to your husband crying or I will not make it out of here alive," he noted wryly.

His words had the desired effect and she laughed lightly.

"True," she agreed, blinking back the rest of her tears.

"Speak of the devil…" her father muttered, lowering his hands as Jethro reached his wife.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed his lips to her temple. "You all right?" he murmured, speaking to Ziva but looking at Eli.

She nodded. "I am more than all right," she reassured him, molding herself to his side. "I am a little thirsty, though; could we go to our table?"

Jethro nodded and the trio moved off the dance floor. The room seemed to release a collective bated breath.

"Aba?" Ziva turned back to her father. She was not naïve enough to think that it would be all rainbows and roses with this man from here on out, but he had made overtures today that meant a great deal to her. Perhaps they could find their way to a comfortable middle ground. "_Toda."_

"You are welcome, Zivaleh," he answered with a smile.

While Eli went to sit with Vance and Jackie for a while, Gibbs pulled Ziva onto his lap at their table. She bypassed her champagne and reached for her water glass. After slaking her thirst, she returned the glass to the table and wrapped both arms around her husband's neck.

"You seem to prefer me sitting on your lap tonight instead of in my own seat," she observed, rubbing her nose against his teasingly.

"Someplace else you'd rather be?" he asked archly.

"Nowhere," she breathed, and bent her lips to his.

"Sheesh, Abbs, they're at it again!" came the unmistakable voice of one Anthony DiNozzo. "You two managed to keep from kissing each other in front of us for two years and now you can't go two minutes - !"

Their mouths separated, grinning.

"Making up for lost time, DiNozzo," Gibbs smirked up at his senior agent.

"Well, you've got plenty of time for that later tonight," Abby pointed out. "Right now the moment has come for you two to dance with us." Refusing to take no for an answer, Abby and Tony tugged the bride and groom back onto the dance floor. Several other guests soon followed suit.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of talking, dancing and laughing. Ziva danced with every male there and Abby, as well. Vance's young son, Jared, was among her partners and his obvious infatuation with the bride was adorable.

After a while, her father said goodbye and took his leave. He and his security detail were staying at the Israeli embassy as he could be more easily protected there. Besides, DiNozzo wasn't the only one looking to safeguard this still-fragile relationship between the Mossad Director and his daughter - and her new husband. Eli figured some space in their togetherness was undoubtedly prudent.

Ziva slipped out of the room to check in with Hector to make certain the staff had eaten and to extend an invitation to anyone who was off shift or not otherwise occupied to join their party in celebration of New Year's Eve. She also asked if someone could possibly take a couple of pieces of wedding cake up to their room as she'd barely gotten more than a bite of the delicious confection. The concierge was more than happy to oblige.

She stopped in the ladies room, then headed back toward the reception. As she walked past an alcove, she suddenly found herself pulled into the secluded area and pressed between her husband and the wall. Her body softened against his instinctively and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he claimed her mouth in a blazing hot kiss.

Trailing a line of kisses to her throat, he murmured, "Remember the honeymoon plan about getting you naked?"

"Yes…" she drawled slowly with a sensual smile. Arching her neck, she silently encouraged him to continue exactly what he was doing with that talented mouth of his.

"I'm thinking that's a really good plan for tonight, too," he revealed, never lifting his lips from her smooth skin.

"Mmmm…I could not agree more," she breathed, "as long as you get naked with me."

"Think we could start that, say, sometime really close to…now?" he husked.

She gave a sexy laugh and agreed. "Most certainly."

She skimmed her lips along his jaw. "We should say goodnight to our guests first," she murmured. "And will you dance with me one more time?"

Unable to deny her anything tonight, he nodded and they returned to the party, anticipation of their wedding night nearly humming through their veins.

They began making their rounds, thanking each guest for coming and saying their goodbyes. Ziva reminded Abby to make sure every guest and the staff got roses to take with them. Hector was going to make sure the top tier of the cake was wrapped up for the bride and groom to take with them when they left tomorrow. Their flight for Hawaii didn't leave until evening, so they would be stopping by their house for a while before heading to the airport.

Damon and McGee were chatting easily at the DJ table when the couple stopped there last. While giving her teammate a hug, Ziva whispered a song selection in his ear for her last dance with Jethro. Tim smiled; it was a perfect choice.

The whole team had had fun creating a play list for the reception, and this was one of Tony's contributions. He had actually been a making a cheeky reference to his boss' functional mute status, but Ziva and Abby had seen beyond the title to the words. Besides, Ziva pointed out, she was not exactly a chatty…what was the name? Chatty Cathy, Tony supplied. Yes, that was it.

Guiding her husband to the dance floor, Ziva twined her arms around his neck as he wrapped her in close. "Listen to the words," she whispered as she brushed her lips against his ear.

_It's amazing how you can speak right to my heart  
Without saying a word, you can light up the dark  
Try as I may I could never explain  
What I hear when you don't say a thing_

_The smile on your face lets me know that you need me_  
_There's a truth in your eyes sayin' you'll never leave me_  
_A touch of your hand says you'll catch me if ever I fall_  
_You say it best, when you say nothing at all_

_All day long I can hear people talking out loud_  
_But when you hold me near, you drown out the crowd_  
_Old Mister Webster could never define_  
_What's being said between your heart and mine_

_The smile on your face lets me know that you need me_  
_There's a truth in your eyes sayin' you'll never leave me_  
_A touch of your hand says you'll catch me if ever I fall_  
_You say it best, when you say nothing at all_

_The smile on your face lets me know that you need me_  
_There's a truth in your eyes sayin' you'll never leave me_  
_A touch of your hand says you'll catch me if ever I fall_  
_You say it best, when you say nothing at all_

In contrast to their other turns on the dance floor tonight, their communication during this song was completely non-verbal. The singer's words cocooned them in a world consisting only of each other, their bodies pressed so closely together a whisper couldn't have passed through. Loving smiles, expressive gazes, and the brushing of lips said all they wanted to and heightened the desire simmering between them.

When the song ended, Ziva and Jethro simply held each other for a long moment. Then, in silent agreement, Ziva collected her bouquet and they made their way to their room, eager to shut out the rest of the world and lose themselves in the first night of their marriage. At last.

* * *

_A/N: This chapter was determined to be difficult in places, but here it is at last - hah, no pun intended there. =D "At Last" is by Etta James, "Hero" is sung by Mariah Carey, "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" is by Elton John, and "When You Say Nothing At All" is sung by Alison Krauss. I have links to all the songs on my profile page if you want to listen to any of them. I own nothing connected to the songs or the singers, of course._

_Oh, and a bit of trivia: red and white roses together signify unity. Perfect choice for a Zibbs wedding, don't you think? ^_^ There's a link on my profile for you to check that out, too, if you like._

_One more chapter to finish this story out, which is both exciting and poignant for me. Thanks to you all for reading and reviews really mean a lot. =)_


	18. Permanently

_A/N: And so, here it is...the final chapter of this story. Please note it is Rated M for mature content; it IS their wedding night after all. =) I hope you enjoy the way it revealed itself to me._

* * *

Gibbs pulled the key card to their room from his inside jacket pocket – no easy feat given that his wife was turning his brain to mush with her tongue, swirling it over his neck above the collar of his shirt. She then stroked a hand down his back to squeeze his very fine ass, just because she could.

Their room was situated in an out-of-the-way corner and had been made spacious at some point over the years by converting two rooms into one. The irregular shape of the building in this section did not allow for other rooms nearby, which suited them both just fine.

Jethro finally got the door open and stepped aside to allow Ziva to walk into the room ahead of him. When he went to lock the door, she stopped him with a sexy glint in her eyes, causing him to raise an eyebrow at her. She wordlessly plucked the "Do Not Disturb" sign from the inside door handle and hung it on the outside. He grinned as she then locked the door herself with a heated look for him.

Grabbing his hand to take him with her, Ziva walked further into the room and laid her bouquet on the vanity. Turning to him, she tipped her head back, inviting his kiss. He didn't disappoint her. It was slow, hot, deep…tongues sliding, stroking. With their heart rates kicked up more than a notch, they came up for air, eyes darkened with need.

"You look incredibly handsome in your tux," she told him warmly, running her hands over his shoulders and chest admiringly, "but right now I would like you out of it."

"Sounds good to me," he responded with his trademark smirk, bending his head to press a string of kisses along her bare shoulder.

"Can we turn on the fireplace?" she asked in a low voice, nuzzling his throat as she tugged the knot free from his tie and pushed at his jacket.

"We can do anything you want," he responded softly. A frisson of anticipation jittered up her spine at the promise in his voice and his eyes.

After a tender kiss that tugged at her bottom lip seductively, he went to the gas fireplace, tossing his tuxedo jacket and loosened tie on a chair along the way. He turned the antique-looking brass key to bring the crackling flames to life.

A table lamp by the bed cast a soft welcoming light that revealed several special touches courtesy of the hotel staff. The bed had been turned down invitingly and a bud vase containing a red and a white rose twined together was on each nightstand. A large arrangement of the intermingled roses had been brought up from the Drawing Room where the ceremony had taken place and now stood resplendent on the low table in front of the couch in the sitting area. Their overnight bags had been moved from the rooms in which they'd dressed for the wedding to the luggage racks near the closet here in this room.

A cart was parked near the balcony doors and held champagne cooling in a bucket; various snacks of cheese, crackers, fruit and such; and two very large pieces of wedding cake. A card attached to the bottle of bubbly caught Ziva's eye and she went over to read it. _Compliments of the staff with our warmest wishes_ was written in an elegant cursive. The post-script caused her to grin: _We fully expect you to check out at your leisure tomorrow, on the house._

Jethro walked over and slid his arms around her waist from behind. She held up the card for him to read, and an anticipatory smile curved his lips. "Like the sound of that," he murmured as his head bent to find that sensitive place on her throat that never failed to raise goose flesh down her arms. Satisfaction rolled through him at the moan she couldn't hold back.

"Champagne before or after?" he queried, skimming his lips over her ear.

"After," she breathed.

Her eyes took on a suggestive twinkle as she turned in his arms and smoothed her hands up over his chest to loop around the back of his neck.

"And then…before," she informed him provocatively, pulling his head down to take his earlobe between her teeth, nipping gently.

His sexy half-grin turned up one side of his mouth. "You do remember you just married an old man, right?"

"Oh, I have no doubt that you will be able to keep up," she responded in a sultry tone, fully aware of the double entendre.

Grinning delightedly, their mouths came together until they were completely lost in the intimate touch, in the taste of each other. Ziva could feel the strong, steady beat of his heart picking up speed as their lips explored, clung. Knowing he was as excited by their connection as she was released a heady feeling inside her.

When they parted to take in much-needed oxygen, his lips moved across her jaw and down her throat. Luxuriating in the sensations aroused by his mouth, Ziva languidly reached up to remove the pearls and flowers from her hair and take down her curls.

"Let me," he husked, raising his head and taking her hands in his. His eyes smoldered with desire as he looked into hers.

With a small smile, she nodded. He led her across the room and silently urged her to sit on the seat in front of the vanity. Anyone else would find his gentle and patient removal of her hair ornaments and pins incongruous with his character, but she adored this sensual, loving side of him that he revealed only to her. As her long dark locks spilled down past her shoulders, he couldn't resist burying his hands in the silky weight of it.

Ziva took the opportunity to remove her bracelet and earrings and toe off her shoes before he pulled her back up against him and took her mouth in a soul-searching, heart-pounding kiss. As his lips slid to her neck and followed the deep V of her dress down to her chest, her eyes glazed over with passion.

"Jethro," she nearly whimpered. "I want you."

"Oh, you'll have me," he assured her in a throaty murmur, "for the rest of our lives."

"Mmmmm…" she purred on a sigh. "That sounds perfect." He couldn't agree more.

Turning her around, he oh-so-slowly lowered the zipper at the back of her gown. He then carefully scooped her hair to the side and turned his attention to the ruffle at the back of her neck. When he couldn't immediately figure out how it fastened – well, _unfastened_ - he questioned, "Um, Ziver?"

With a captivating half-smile curving her lips, she reached back and showed him the hidden hooks in the center of the ruffle that held the straps of material together. As she watched the two of them in the mirror, he separated the fastenings at a deliberate pace. The view of them standing close to one another as he unfastened her gown heightened her craving for him.

It wasn't just his looks that made her heart race and her body need, though she loved the look of him. It was also all she knew about him and all she had yet to discover…it was the way he loved her exactly as she was and shared himself with her like he did with no one else…it was the rock-solid connection between them that she trusted would hold no matter what came their way.

Gently Gibbs pulled down the front of her dress, now his turn to gaze into the mirror as more of her was gradually revealed. His breath caught at the sight before him. Her eyes were trained on his face in the glass as she reached one arm up to wrap it around his neck. The halter-style neckline had built-in support so she wasn't wearing a separate bra, which was incredibly arousing. His hands trailed unhurriedly up from her waist to cup her breasts, and she arched back into him, her eyes closing in ecstasy at his touch.

Releasing her lovely mounds for the moment, Jethro turned her to face him. She moved closer into him, slowly, purposefully, until her body was completely molded against his, until her arms twined like silken ropes around his neck. Her lips brushed his, retreated, brushed again, then sank warm and soft against his mouth. A moan of pleasure escaped her throat…a bit of seduction, a bit of surrender, a shimmer of promises shared all bound up in the sound.

Their lips separated, clung, then separated once more. Kneeling in front of her, Gibbs pushed her dress down over her hips and off. The sight that met his eyes nearly had him swallowing his tongue. If he'd had known what was lying in wait for him under her wedding gown, he would have had her up here hours ago - even if he'd had to throw her over his shoulder and abscond with her.

Sheer white stockings with lacy tops flowed up her legs to mid-thigh, where they met the garters holding them up. The white lace garter belt stretched from hip to hip and allowed tantalizing hints of her dusky skin to show through. A tiny sky blue rose adorned the center of the top edge and the points at which the garters attached to the stockings. The tiniest scrap of white lace underwear he'd ever seen barely covered her under the garter belt, and was just sheer enough to for him to see a suggestion of her dark curls beneath.

"Happy wedding present to me," he breathed, running his hands appreciatively up her legs to rest on her hips.

"Oh, that is just the wrapping," she informed him in a siren's voice.

"I've unwrapped this before," he husked, smoothing his fingers over the silky white lace. "Takes my breath away every time."

"You get that, too," she smirked with heated promise in her eyes, "but there is more."

_More? Dear God, was she trying to kill him?_

Almost reverently, he unfastened the stockings from the garters and rolled them slowly down her legs and off her feet. His hands reached for the garter belt and he began to tug it down. An unexpected flash of color near her left hip caught his eye. Mystified, he focused his gaze there, his brow furrowing a bit.

Then he froze, as if the world had come to a complete standstill. Indeed, his had.

In a shade of blue that he saw every morning in the mirror as he shaved, three small initials now slanted down her hip in script letters: LJG. They were nearly enclosed by what at first appeared to be a stylized heart left mostly open on the side nearest her belly button. As he stared, he realized it was a cursive Z that started from the beginning of his L, then curved up, down and around, ending with a flourish below the G in his initials. The gifted tattoo artist had suggested the addition of Ziva's first initial shaped somewhat like a heart around Jethro's initials. She'd sketched it out and Ziva had loved it.

To say he was stunned was the understatement of the year.

With fingers that trembled slightly, he reached out to gently trace the design on her skin, possessive satisfaction slamming unexpectedly into him.

"Ziver?" he whispered past the lump in his throat, his eyes finally lifting to hers. Bewilderment warred with heated pleasure in his gaze.

"Now you have found your wedding gift," she enlightened him with an intimate smile. "Do you like it?"

All he could do at first was nod, robbed of his ability to speak. He'd never have guessed that he would feel such a sense of rightness at seeing his initials tattooed on a woman, but on this woman…he nearly growled in thrilled satisfaction. Reining in the force of his emotion, he skimmed a kiss as light as a butterfly's wing onto each letter, then traced the design with the very tip of his tongue, causing her to gasp with pleasure.

Pulling back slightly, he cupped her hip and tenderly brushed the tattoo with his thumb as he gazed up at her with a look that was clearly staggered.

"But you don't have tattoos," he observed almost inanely, finding his voice at last.

"I do now," she corrected him in a gently teasing tone. "Although, to be technically correct, I still have to get the final inking with the needle to make sure it is truly permanent. However, I did not want the healing process from that interfering with our wedding night and honeymoon activities." A sexy twinkle lit her eyes.

He looked back down at his initials on her skin, cradled by the first letter of her name as if in protection. For another long moment he was speechless.

"I want it there always," he finally admitted in a voice husky with the depth of his feelings, "but never imagined…" His voice trailed off, then he finally settled on one word in the maelstrom of emotions running though him.

"Why?" he whispered.

"Two reasons," she began softly, running her fingers through his silver hair, loving the feel of it, of him. "In my old life, it would have been too dangerous to have a mark that would identify me, even if I had wanted one." Now it was her voice that rang with satisfaction and more than a hint of wonder. "But that is not my life anymore."

Her hands moved to cup his face and turn his brilliant blue eyes up to hers, thumbs smoothing over his cheeks.

"But, more importantly, it is another tangible statement that I have committed myself to you always…forever…permanently," she continued, deep, abiding love for him shining from her whiskey-brown eyes.

"Permanently," he echoed, repeating the word that was also inscribed inside their matching wedding bands, along with _J&Z_.

Sliding his arms around her, he laid his cheek on her flat belly, grateful beyond words that they'd finally come to this place in their lives. With one hand against his head and the other wrapped around his shoulders, she held him to her in an embrace that was as nurturing as it was loving.

"_Ani ohev otach_," he whispered against her smooth skin.

This time the world stood still for her as he told her loved her in the language of her homeland.

"Jethro?" she questioned faintly, tugging at his head until she could see his eyes. "How…?"

He simply smiled mysteriously, the look on her face making the effort to learn the phrase entirely worth it. Later he would admit that he'd enlisted McGee's help to find the Hebrew translation and record it to a hand-held Dictaphone so he could listen to it over and over until he thought – hoped – he had it right. Apparently, he'd succeeded.

Elation, shock and awe chased one another across her lovely features as moisture filled her eyes. A beautiful smile curved her lips even as one teardrop overflowed and ran down her cheek.

In a breaking voice, she returned the sentiment to him. "_Ani ohevet otcha_."

She was too overwhelmed to say anything else, so she bent to capture his mouth in a kiss that said all the rest of what was in her heart.

Gradually, their hands and lips started to wander again, and the heat that had dialed down to a slow simmer quickly flared again into passion that could no longer be denied.

He removed the rest of her undergarments, planting kisses and running his wicked tongue over her with just enough pressure to further stoke her yearning for him, but not enough to completely satisfy her. He was driving her crazy and she decided to return the favor.

She went to work on unbuttoning his shirt as far as she could reach, sliding her fingers inside to roam his chest. His groan of pleasure emboldened her and she pulled at him until he stood in front of her so she could dispense with his shirt and get to work on removing his pants.

Their mouths came together again…adoring… inflaming…promising…uniting.

Once he was undressed as well, he picked her up and carried her to the bed, laying her down gently. He sat beside her hip for a moment, just looking at her, absorbing the moment. With a welcoming smile, she lifted her arms in silent invitation and he came down on top of her, his body gloriously hard, taunt and heavy against hers. Pleasure seared over her skin and flashed through her body as she gave herself over to his hands, his mouth … as he entrusted himself to her touch, her kiss in return.

Twice he brought her to a thrilling climax as they leisurely and thoroughly rediscovered each other. There was no pressure to rush; it was as though the rest of the world had ceased to exist and they had all the time they could possibly want.

Somehow their lovemaking tonight was familiar, yet brand-new. Surpassing what had come before between them, they reached unexplored heights and forged an even stronger connection, though neither would have believed their bond had been wanting for anything.

Finally, when they were both beyond the point of waiting any longer, he entered her slick heat, two halves forming a perfect whole.

He braced himself above her, wanting to see her and nothing else as he began to move slowly, deliberately. Her hands searched up his bare chest for his shoulders, digging in and holding fast as their pace became more urgent. Getting close to the precipice, her hands slid back down and around to his back, pressing him even closer as he bent his head to fasten his lips to her throat.

Suddenly there was blind, blasting pleasure as they found their release together, calling for each other in voices hoarse with emotion. Spent, he collapsed on top of her, both breathing heavily, blood pounding against their pulse points. Somehow she managed to wrap him in even more closely with arms and legs that had gone boneless.

"That was…" she breathed, unable to find words that would fully describe the pinnacle of ecstasy they'd attained.

"Mmm…" he agreed, the sound little more than a hum. Then she felt him grin against her skin where his face rested against her breasts. "Should'a gotten married a long time ago."

Her winded laugh rumbled lightly under his cheek.

They stayed tangled together, talking in tender murmurs…kissing…touching…savoring the feelings resonating between them. After a while Jethro rolled onto his back, holding her against his chest as he went, wanting her as close as possible.

After she'd sufficiently recovered enough to put more than a couple of words together, Ziva languorously glanced over at the clock, noting that midnight was not that far away.

"The new year will begin soon. I have an idea for celebrating that," she revealed, nuzzling his throat. "Would you like to hear it?"

"Want to hear all your ideas," he mumbled, his eyes closed to better bask in the afterglow of their lovemaking, reveling in the silkiness of her skin as his fingers skimmed over the curve of her shoulder, the expanse of her back.

"Champagne plus Jacuzzi plus you plus me," she disclosed in a tantalizing tone. Her voice deepened seductively. "Interested?"

"No sleep first?" he asked in feigned surprise, opening his eyes to look down at her.

"A wise man once said you can sleep when you are dead," she answered, reminding him of words he'd once uttered. "Besides, we can sleep on the plane tomorrow night, yes?"

"True," he acknowledged with his barely-there smile that never failed to make her heart skip a beat.

They had decided to spend their honeymoon in Hawaii, choosing someplace neither of them had ever been. Jethro had taken care of most of the arrangements for their trip, even springing for first class seats so they'd be more comfortable during the long flight. They'd consciously decided to fly overnight, figuring the time would pass more quickly if they could sleep away some of the hours in the air.

After kissing him until his brain cells went gooey, Ziva slipped from the bed and pulled on a long white silk negligee trimmed in lace that she'd purchased just for this occasion. There was a matching nightgown that she hadn't yet had the chance to put on, though she wasn't complaining. The look in his eyes as they moved over her said he heartily approved of her choice of attire.

"How about I start the water and you open the champagne?" she suggested with a come-hither look as she belted the robe around her trim waist.

"Sounds good," he agreed, content to watch her move around for a bit longer before rising from the bed himself.

"Oh, and I have another idea for afterwards," she informed him flirtatiously.

She pulled a bottle of something from her overnight bag and tossed it to him lightly. He caught it reflexively and held it out to read the label. _Edible massage oil in warm vanilla sugar flavor._ He raised his eyebrows in question, but the heat in his eyes assured her he approved of that suggestion, too.

"As I said, we can sleep on the plane." And with a sexy wink she disappeared into the bathroom.

He lay there for a moment longer, grinning like a fool and indulging himself in happy, satisfied thoughts of being married to Ziva. He'd never done a thing in his life to deserve this much contentment; thankfully, that didn't seem required.

He heard the tub begin to fill with water and a pleasant smell gradually wafted out. She must have added something to the water to create the tantalizing scent.

A slim hand capable of the most delicate to the deadliest of touches appeared through the bathroom doorway dangling a white silk robe which dropped to the floor in silent invitation. Gibbs needed nothing further to entice him from the bed. He poured two glasses of the bubbly wine and started to join his beautiful wife in the deep, spacious tub. He paused as inspiration struck and he turned back to scoop up a piece of their wedding cake to take along with him. A wolfish smirk curved his lips as he envisioned wickedly delicious ideas of his own. Ziva was right; they had plenty of time to catch up on sleep.

By some twist of grace that felt nothing short of miraculous, they had a lifetime.

_~The End ~_

* * *

_A/N: Thank you all for joining me on the journey through this Zibbs universe. I am completely in love with this story and am thrilled that so many of you love it, too. All the reviews, favorites and alerts made my fluffy heart VERY happy and are greatly appreciated. Here's a special HUG to all of you who reviewed without logging in, since I couldn't reply directly to you. :o)_

_My heartfelt thanks goes out to my special cyber gang of unwavering support; our e-mails and messages have become bright spots in my days and I feel so fortunate to know you._

_I am also blessed enough to have a real life Girl Gang of support and encouragement. Without their unfailing belief in my ability to be creative, I doubt I would have ever written a thing. Therefore, this final chapter is dedicated to you D, H, K & P. My life has been enriched beyond measure because I count you among my friends._

_To both my cyber and RL gangs: Thank you for allowing me to lean on your certainty when my own confidence wavered._

_Some aspects of the wedding preparations, ceremony and reception were written in broad strokes for this story. If you crave a tale with every last wedding detail, go read my dear friend iyimgrace's House/13 "Candy Canes & Mistletoe" - it ROCKS! And for a delightfully hurried yet incredibly sweet and beautiful wedding, check out another dear friend's House/Cuddy "Safety" story by Cherokee Jedi...another ROCKIN' good fic._

_And finally, this is not the last you've heard from me in writing about Ziva & Gibbs. There are some completely different Zibbs stories coming, in addition to at least one more in this universe (can you say Zibblet? =D ). There's also a mischievous plot bunny whispering about a honeymoon one-shot as I write this ... perhaps that will see the light of day, as well, along with some stories involving a couple of other pairings. THANK YOU for reading! =)_


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